■-•T^  '^i^J*^,. 


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w^-^^^y 


^^*m. 


^^l^lBttf^ 


'^'^M  M\f  C''^^ 


---^MflSS^-: 


•     •" 


aoi^oS!  I  hi'iimimmmtmitiiiSfmiltiat. 


trv- 


Vv/.l-'^^'v^     .      U^       ^^^      t^^       ^ 


A-^AA 


yViC.lrms  i/f  tht  tirrv  of  Sir  yu\ipn  iiinrstHiUni  t>\<  ifnrr.wvn  'V  //i.\  iarinntiir.ty  Mitjrslv    iiS  I'laiptint  fii  pap''  !fi:i 
tifrvrititiii  ti  iliv  iKilfiii  ijMtCi/  h'  Jiifiui,  /I'liifi  0/ Arnui'  i;f  tliintam  hphX'Peii  Ihflhrre  rivrrx 


THE 


VISION    OF    RUBETA, 


AN    EPIC     STORY 


OF  THE   ISLAND   OF  MANHATTAN. 


WITH   ILLUSTRATlOiVS,   DONE   ON    STOJ\rE. 


AUSUS-   CELEBRARB    DOMESTICA    FACTA. 


BOSTON: 

WEEKS,    JORDAN,  AND    COMPANY. 

M  DCCC  XXXVIII. 


LOAN  STACIC 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1838,  by 

Weeks,  Jordan,  and  Company, 

in  the  Clerk's  office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


^55 


THE  AUTHOR'S  PEEFACE. 


I  ADVISE  nobody  to  attempt  to  find  me 
out.  The  endeavor  can  end  only  in  dis- 
appointment, after  bringing  perhaps  upon 
many  innocent  persons  the  annoyance  of 
temporary  suspicion.  There  are  but  three 
ways  which  can  lead  to  any  probability  of 
discovery,  where  an  author  is  determined 
to  remain  concealed  :  first,  the  carelessness 
or  treachery  of  confidants  ;  secondly,  certain 
circumstances,  in  the  course  of  his  labors, 
that  can  with  difficulty  be  made  to  apply 
to  more  than  one  person ;  thirdly,  a  known 
style.  The  two  first  ways  are  effectually 
closed,  in  the  present  case.  As  for  the 
third,  I  would  observe  that  there  is  no  au- 
thor, in    any  era    of  literature,  who    stands 

: .  741 


VI  THE   AUTHORS   PREFACE. 

absolutely  alone  in  his  manner  of  composi- 
tion :  for,  though  he  were  the  originator  of 
a  style,  yet  would  he,  almost  ere  his  book 
were  dry  from  the  press,  have  imitators  in 
abundance.  There  is  a  degree  of  resem- 
blance among  all  the  writers  of  any  partic- 
ular epoch  in  letters.  For  example,  take 
those  of  the  time  of  Anne,  in  England  ; 
they  have  all  a  certain  family  likeness  in 
their  respective  classes,  which  would  ena- 
ble you  at  once,  after  having  seen  any  one 
of  them,  to  know  where  with  probability 
to  place  the  date  of  the  others'  existence. 
They  are  distinguishable  from  one  another 
only  by  the  degrees  of  excellence,  good, 
better,  best,  —  as  are  the  writers  of  the  pres- 
ent day  by  their  respective  worthlessness, 
bad,  worse,  worst,  or  their  relative  inferi- 
ority, little,  less,  least.  I  might  tell  you  a 
story  here,  to  prove  that  the  judgment  of  an 
author's  personal  identity  by  the  features  of 
his  style  is  about  as  hazardous  as  swear- 
ing to  the  characters  of  his  handwriting  ; 
but  the    author    of  the    Pursuits   of  Liter- 


THE   AUTHOR  S   PREFACE.  Vli 

ature  has  saved  me  the  trouble.     Thus  he 
writes :  — 

"  Julius  Scaliger  wrote  and  published  aii  oration,  without  his 
name,  against  the  celebrated  tract,  by  Erasmus,  called  Cicero- 
nianus.  Erasmus,  having  perused  it,  immediately  (and  upon 
conviction,  as  he  thought,)  fixed  upon  Hieronymus  Aleander, 
who  was  afterwards  made  an  Archbishop  by  Leo  the  Tenth,  and 
a  Cardinal  by  Pope  Paul  the  Third,  as  the  author  of  the  whole, 
or  of  the  greatest  part  of  it,  by  signs  which  he  conceived  to  be 
certain  and  infallible.  These  signs  were  strong  indeed  :  his 
phraseology,  his  manner  of  speaking,  his  peculiar  diction,  his 
habits  of  life,  and  even  the  very  intercourse  which  Erasmus 
had  daily  with  him.  Nay,  his  genius  and  disposition  were  so 
evident,  that  Aleander  could  not  be  more  intimately  known  to 
himself,  than  he  was  to  Erasmus.  Yet  Erasmus  was  mis- 
taken ENTIRELY.  His  judgment  and  sagacity  will  not  be 
questioned.  But  hear  his  own  words  ;  for,  on  such  an  oc- 
casion as  the  present,  they  are  particularly  remarkable.  '  Ex 
phrasi,  ex  ore,  ex  locutione,  aliisque  compluribus,  mihi  persuasi 
HOC  OPUS,  maxima  saltern  ex  parte,  esse  Hieronymi  Aleandri. 
Nam  mihi  genius  illius  ex  domestico  convictu  adeo  cognitus 
perspectusque  est,  ut  ipse  sibi  non  possit  esse  notior ' ! ! 
(Erasmi  Epist.  370.  c.  1755.     Op.  Fol.  Ed.  opt.  Lugd.)  "* 

I  repeat.  I  myself  defy  discovery  from 
any  circumstances  in  a  poem,  where  I  do 
not  once  appear  in  my  individual  character  : 
its  style,  as  I  have  said  before,  no  man  can 

*  Purs,  of  Lit.     9th  ed.  Lond.     pp.  1,2.     *  * 


Viil  THE  AUTHOR'S   PREFACE. 

pronounce  upon  with  any  degree  of  cer- 
tainty :  and,  for  my  secret,  there  are  but 
two  or  three  persons  in  the  world  that  know 
it,  and  I  should  not  have  intrusted  it  to  them, 
had  I  not  had  confidence  in  their  honor  and 
discretion.  But,  while  I  make  this  declara- 
tion, let  it  be  noted  distinctly,  that  it  is  no 
motive  of  personal  fear,  which  induces  me 
to  wear  a  mask.  They,  who  are  so  rash  as 
to  assume  the  contrary,  will  one  day  find 
their  mistake.  I  could  even  now,  with  all 
my  heart,  say  with  Icilius  : 

Tutto  il  periglio  io-veggio  : 
Percio  lo  affronto  :  * 

but  it  is  not  my  cue.  When  the  poem  shall 
have  obtained  that  measure  of  success  which 
is  thought  necessary  to  promote  its  object, 
I  shall  drop  the  veil  ;  and  a  hearty  in- 
dignation will  keep  warm  till  then.  I 
therefore  advise  all  such  persons  to  spare 
their  invectives  till  the  proper  season,  as- 
sured that  no  abuse,  however  noisy,  nor  any 

*  Alkieri.     Virginia.     Atto  Vo.  Sc.  1^.    *  * 


THE   AUTHORS   PREFACE.  IX 

insinuations,  however  pointed,  can  rouse  me 
from  my  covert  till  it  shall  be  my  pleasure ; 
while,  to  those  who  may  derive  amusement 
from  my  labors,  I  add,  with  that  reviver 
of  the  foolery,  without  the  wit,  of  Sterne, 
Doctor  DjxiEL  Dove,  that,  if  any  of  them 
shall  have  my  offspring  laid  at  his  door,  I 
hope  he  will  take  it  up  for  pity,  and  in 
silence,  nor  deny  the  parentage,  as,  in  so 
doing,  while  he  cannot  actually  harm  him- 
self, he  will  help  to  thicken  the  mystery 
which  it  is  my  present  interest  to  gather 
round  me. 

The  quantity  of  notes,  towards  the  close 
of  the  volume,  may  be  thought  excessive  ; 
but  the  characters  of  the  poem  are  persons 
of  so  respectable  a  standing,  that  it  is  a  duty 
I  owe  to  myself,  and  to  my  fellow-citizens, 
to  justify  the  severity  of  the  censure  passed 
upon  them,  which  I  am  much  deceived  if 
I  shall  not  be  found  to  have  done  in  every 
particular. 

The  long   note,*  on  Mr.  Wordsworth's 

*  Page  288,  and  Apptndit.     *  * 
b 


X  THE   AUTHORS   PREFACE. 

pretensions  to  distinction  as  a  poet  and  a 
critic,  will  need  no  apology  with  those  who 
may  happen  to  be  convinced  by  its  argu- 
ments, or  who  are,  already,  of  a  similar 
opinion  with  the  writer.  Had  Mr.  Words- 
worth  remained  where  Byron  laid  him,  I 
should  not  have  thought  to  write  the  epitaph 
of  his  muse,  which,  in  that  case  had  been 
impertinent,  because  superfluous ;  but  he  has 
had  a  resurrection,  and  is  now  so  radiant  in 
the  apotheosis  of  popularity,  that  men's  eyes 
are  dazzled,  and  they  deem  it  profanation  to 
consider  whether  the  deificatioa  be  rational, 
or  have  its  origin  in  the  grossest  of  delu- 
sions. I  share  a  satirist's  prescriptive  privi- 
lege, and  am  troubled  with  no  such  scruples. 


PREFACE   OF   THE   EDITOR. 


The  singular  circumstances,  under  which  the  Vision 
of  Rubeta  came  into  the  hands  of  its  present  proprie- 
tor, cannot  be  now  recounted ;  for,  though  the  recital 
would  not  indeed  endanger  a  secret  which  the  Author 
has  not  chosen  to  reveal,  yet  would  it  compromise  the 
security  of  the  Editor,  by  exposing  him  to  suspicions 
with  which  he  is  too  humble  to  desire  to  be  honored. 
It  is  sufficient  to  say,  that,  when  the  manuscript  was 
conveyed  to  him  for  publication,  permission  was  ac- 
corded to  add,  provided  he  effaced  nothing,  such  com- 
ments as  he  might  deem  proper.  Of  this  indulgence, 
it  will  be  seen,  he  has  liberally  availed  himself.  His 
principal  efforts  have  been  confined  to  giving  to  the 
heroic  characters  of  the  Author's  muse  a  reality,  if  they 
be  but  shadowy  creations  of  the  brain,  or  the  advantage 
of  a  modern  reflection,  if  (as  he  rather  thinks)  they 
are  the  gigantic  beings  of  a  past  epoch,  and  of  per- 


xii  PREFACE   OF   THE    EDITOR. 

haps  an  extinct  race  of  humanity ;  for  who  ever  heard 
of  a  Ruheta  ?  and  though  indeed  a  Petronius  and  a 
Margites  have  both  been  known,  yet  very  different 
were  they  (at  least  the  former)  from  the  Petronius 
and  Margites  who  give  such  relief  to  the  brilliancy 
of  RuBETA,  and  with  him  form  the  grand  effect  of 
this  solemn  poem.  Not  that  the  Editor  by  any  means 
vouches  for  it,  that  his  conjectures  will  be  found  cor- 
rect; but,  in  the  absence  of  all  certain  information, 
he  presumes  that  his  efforts  to  illustrate  the  char- 
acters and  actions  of  the  poem,  by  parallels  drawn 
from  real  life  and  contemporary  events,  will  be  found 
acceptable,  and  perhaps  useful. 

The  parts  he  has  contributed  to  the  volume  are  in- 
dicated by  a  couple  of  stars.  .-  *  * 


'  AdUfisXti  xtXa^'^irtj,  rZv  "E'T*  — 

Ql^v^iav  Aoxo&iK  ytviav  aXiyeuv. 
'  E»3-a  trv'yxaif/.cc^xs'',  iyyva,iTo//,ix.i 
AK  fiiVf  ii  ^l/>7(rai,  (pvyo-^svov  (Tt^ktov, 
JMjjS    a.'Ttiipot.'ro)/  xaXcov, 
'Ax^iffofov  SI  icai  at^fiaruv,  aifi^ic^d^cci,  — 

PixD.  Olymp.  xi.  13  —  19.     Heyne.  Lond.  1823. 

Hoc  ego  opertuin, 
Hoc  ridere  meum  tarn  nil,  nulla  tibi  vendo 
Iliade.     Audaci  quicunque  afflate  Cratino, 
Iratum  Eupolidem  prsegrandi  cum  sene  palles, 
Aspice  et  haec,  si  forte  aliquid  decoctius  audis. 
Inde  vaporata  lector  mihi  ferveat  aure, 
Non  hie,  qui  in  crepidas  Graiorum  ludere  gestit 
Sordidus,  et  lusco  qui  possit  dicere  Lusce, 
Seque  aliquem  credens,  Italo  quod  honore  supinus 
Fregerit  heminas  Areto  Eedilis  iniquas ; 
Nee  qui  abaco  numeros,  et  secto  in  pulvere  metas, 
Sat  risisse  vafer,  multum  gaudere  paratus 
Si  Cynico  barbam  petulans  Nonaria  vellat. 
His  mane  edictum,  post  prandia  Calliroen  do. 

Pers.  I.  121  — 134.     Casaubon.  Lond.  1647. 


Thus  much  it  haa  been  judged  requisite  to  lay  before  the  world  in  relation 
to  [RUBETA] ;  not  with  any  view  of  exalting  his  character  higher  than  it 
deserves,  which  is  quite  needless ;  but  of  making  its  real  value  more  generally 
known,  and  of  rescuing  it  from  the  misrepresentations  of  a  few  misinformed 
or  malevolent  men.  To  some,  no  doubt,  the  portrait  here  drawn  of  him  will 
appear  a  very  flattering  one  ;  but  it  will  be  much  easier  to  call  than  to  prove 
it  such.  Nothing  has  been  advanced  but  what  is  founded  on  the  most  au- 
thentic evidence,  nor  has  any  circumstance  been  designedly  strained  beyond 
the  truth.  And  if  his  [Eminence]  did  really  live  and  act  in  such  a  manner 
that  the  most  faithful  delineation  of  his  conduct  must  necessarily  liave  the  air 


XIV 


of  a  panegyric,  llie  fault  is  not  in  the  copy,  but  in  the  original.  Rmeir  of  thr 
Life  and  Cfiaracter  of  Jlrchhiskop  Secker,  by  Dr.  Porteus.  (p.  G7.  N.  York. 
1773.) 

Thine  own  mouth  condemneth  thee,  and  not  I.     Job  xv.  G. 


—  the  gentlemen  of  the  press,  whose  livelihood  is  lying.  —  Sir  W.  Scott's 
Diary.  Memoirs,  by  J.  G.  Lockhart,  Esq.  (Vol.  IV.  p.  24!),  Galignani's 
Edition.) 

For  daily  bread  the  dirty  trade  they  ply, 
Coin  their  fresh  tales,  and  live  upon  the  lie. 

Crabbe.     The  Newspaper. 

They  '11  sit  by  the  fire,  and  presume  to  know 

What  's  done  i'  the  Capitol ;  who  's  like  to  rise, 

Who  thrives,  and  who  declines ;  side  factions,  and  give  out 

Conjectural  marriages  ;  making  parties  strong, 

And  feebling  such,  as  stand  not  in  their  liking, 

Below  their  cobbled  shoes.  Coriolaims,  A.  I.  So.  2. 

You  have  neither  feelings  nor  opinions  of  your  own ;  but,  like  a  glass  in  a 
tavern,  bear  about  those  of  every  blockhead  who  gives  you  his;  and,  because 
you  mean  no  harm,  think  yourselves  excused,  though  broken-  friendships,  dis- 
cords, and  murders,  are  the  consequences  of  your  indiscretions.  Belle's  Strat- 
agem, (Mrs.  Inchbald's  Stage-edition,)  A.  ii.  Sc.  1. 

Far  be  from  me  the  uncharitable  presumption,  that  these  sanguine  persons 
are  destitute  of  principle,  or  void  of  right  intentions.  Doubtless,  in  many  in- 
stances, they  persevere  in  error  for  no  reason,  but  because  they  believe  it  to  be 
truth.  There  is  even  much  that  is  right  in  them ;  but  are  they  not  too  easily 
satisfied  with  a  low  measure  of  that  right,  without  examining  accurately  the 
quality  of  the  practice,  merely  because  it  is  not  disreputable .'  Christian  Mor- 
als, by  Hannah  More,  Chap,  xviii.  (p.  21G,  1st  Amer.  ed.) 


BaccH.    ^ieficai  •roiriTev  ^i^iou. 
\Ji  ftiv  yct^  oUKir    iKTiv     01  0    ovriSt  xaxoi, 

HeRC.    Tj  S'  ;    OVK  lotpiuv  Z,^  ; 

Bacch.    Tdura  ya^  mi  xa)  fiovov 
"Et    Icr)  \oivrov  aya^av,  i]  xai  redr'  a^a, 
0«  y*'^   ffaf    Old    oud'  avro  rov^  oTois  tx^'' 


XV 


HeRC.    Ovkouv  trip    'iffr    lyTavBu  ftn^axuWia, 
TpaysJhia;  'proiovvroc,  'yrXilv  h  fiu^ia, 
Eupi-ri^cu  leXiit  »}  ffraSiiu  XaXifri^a ; 

SACCn.   'E-rifuXXl^l;  to-vt    IctJ,  koa  ffrufiuXfjiaru., 
^'.Xihivwv  fiouirua,  XaSnrai  Ti^vti;, 
"A  (p^ovta,  BaTTOv,  n"  f^ovov  ;^^o^oii  XdSri, 
"Atra^  9r^»gev^<titv'ra,  tS  'V^a.yuh'ia, 
Tinfiov  Ss  wottiTriv  av  ou^  I'igci;  'in, 
"LriTuv  av,  offTi;  prif^ci  yivvcilov  Xaxai, 

Akistoph.  Ran.  7:2  —  77,  S9  — 97.  ed.  Br.  ^ro-.  1783. 

[Exilibus  racemnlis,  succo  carentibus,  comparatos  adolescentulos  illos,  qui, 
nondum  maturo  ingenio,  tragoedias  componendae  se  pares  esse  rentur,  ait  Bac- 
chus statira  arescere,  evanescere,  si,  accepto  choro,  semel  tantum  in  Tragcedi- 
am  minxerint,  etc.  De  Tragoedia,  tanquam  de  meretrice,  loquitur,  quae  ama- 
toribus  poetis  copiam  sui  facit.     Brunckii  Jlnnotat.^ 

Je  vols  les  Briguants,  les  Bourreaulx,  les  Adventuriers,  les  Palefreniers  de 
maintenant  plus  doctes  que  les  Docteurset  les  Prescheurs  de  mon  temps.  Que 
dirai-je  ?  Les  femnaes  et  les  filles  ont  aspire  k  ceste  loijange  et  manne  celeste 
de  bonne  doctrine.     Rabelais,  Liv.  ii.  chap.  8.     .Iinst.  1741.  in-4to. 

Is  there  a  boy,  at  the  present  day,  who  fancies  himself  in  love  with  his 
nurse,  or  has  been  kissed  by  the  ladies  that  visit  his  mama,  but  straightway 
writes  Sonnets  to  Hope,  Odes  to  Despair,  and  Lines  to  Blank  .''  etc. 

*****  —  is  not  this  the  age  of  brass  .■'  Does  not  that  most  dictatorial  of  lit- 
erary dictators,  etc. :  does  not  that  most  republican  of  papers,  which  would  have 

all  poets  Byrons,  and  all  novelists  Sir  Walter  Scotts :  does  not  the  L y 

G e  tell  us,  that  indiscriminate  praise   (or  puffing)  is,  and  shall  be,  the 

order  of  the  day  .'    Alas  for  the  days  that  are  gone  !  when  genius  was 

as  sure  to  produce  critics,  as  a  hot  sun  to  breed  maggots ;  when,  etc.  etc.  Sixty 
Years  of  the  Life  of  Jeremy  Levis,  Vol.  L  p.  213. 

Oh,  parbleu  !  interrompit  le  chevalier  de  Saint-Jacques,  nous  ne  sommea 
pas  si  timides  que  vous.  Nous  n'attendons  point,  pour  decider,  qu'une  piece 
soit  imprim6e  :  des  la  premiere  representation  nous  en  connaissons  lout  le  prix. 
II  n'est  pas  meme  besoin  que  nous  I'ecoutions  fort  attentivement ;  il  suffit  que 
nous  sacliions  que  c'est  une  production  de  don  Gabriel  pour  ctre  persuades 
qu'elle  est  sans  dcfaut.     Gil  Bias,  Liv.  x.  Chap.  5. 

Pravi  favore  labi  moitales  solent, 
Et,  pro  judicio  dum  stant  errores  sui, 
Ad  poenitendum  rebus  manifestis  agi. 

Ph-«dr.  f'al).  Lib.  V.  5.  Durman.  Jlmslcl.  16'J8. 


XVI 

Etcnim  tam  varia  sunt  palata  mortaliuni,  tam  morosa  quorundam  ingenia, 
tarn  ingrati  aniini,  tam  absurda  judicia,  ut  cum  his  baud  paulo  felicius  agi 
videatur,  qui,  jucundi  atque  hilares,  genio  indulgent  suo,  quam  qui  semetma- 
cerant  curis,  ut  edant  aiiquid,  quod  aliis,  aut  faotidientibus  aut  ingratis,  vel 
utilitati  possil  esse,  vel  voluplati.  Plurimi  Uterus  iiesciunt,  multi  conterniiunt. 
Barbaras  ut  durum  rejecit,  quicquid  non  est  plane  barbaruni.  Scioli  aspernan- 
tur  ut  triviale,  quicquid  obsoletis  verbis  non  scatet.  Quibusdam  solum  placent 
Vetera,  plerisque  tantum  sua.  Hie  tam  tetricus  est,  ut  non  admittat  jocos  :  hie 
tam  insulsus,  ut  not  ferat  sales.  Tam  simi  quidam  sunt,  ut  nasum  oinnem, 
velut  aquam  ab  rabido  morsus  cane,  reformident :  adeo  mobiles  alii  sunt,  ut 
aliud  sedentes  probent,  aliud  stantes.  Hi  scdent  in  tabernis,  et  inter  pocula  de 
scriptorum  judicant  ingeniis,  magnaque  cum  autoritate  condemnant  utcunque 
lubitum  est,  suis  quenque  scriptis,  veluti  capillicio  vellicantes,  ipsi  interim  tuti, 
et,  quod  dici  solet,  'i^a  SiXus,  quippe  tam  leves  et  abrasi  undique,  ut  ne  pilum 
quidem  haboant  boni  viri,  quo  possint  apprehendi.  Sunt  pra^tcrea  quidam  tam 
ingrati,  ut  quum  imponse  delectentur  opere,  nihilo  tamen  magis  anient  auto- 
rem  :  non  absimiles  inhumanis  hospitibus,  qui,  quum  opiparo  convivio  prolixe 
sint  excepti,  saturi  demum  discedunt  domum,  nullis  habitis  gratiis  ei,  a  quo 
sunt  invitati.  1  nunc,  et  hominibus  tam  delicati  palati,  tam  varii  gustils,  ani- 
mi  prajterea  tam  memoris  et  grati,  tuis  impensis  epulum  instrue.  Thom^ 
Mori  ad  Pctr,  JEg.  cpist.  p.  vii.  ex  libelli  dc  Utopiana  rcpuh.  edit.  Glasg. 
12rao.  1750. 

Mais  le  fait  est  que  la  multitude  de  livres  inlisibles  degoiite.  II  n'y  a  plus 
inoyen  de  rien  appreiidre,  parce  qu'il  y  a  trop  de  choses  ii  apprendre.  Je  suis 
occupe  d'un  problcme  de  geometric;  vient  un  roman  de  Clarisse,  en  six  vol- 
umes, que  des  anglomanes  me  vantent  comme  le  seul  roman  digne  d'etre  lu 
d'un  homme  sage  :  je  suis  assez  fou  pour  le  lire ;  je  perds  mon  temps  et  le  fil 
de  mcs  etudes.  Puis,  lorsqu'il  nic  fallut  lire  di.x  gros  volumes  du  president 
de  Thou,  et  dix  autres  de  Daniel,  et  quinze  de  Rapin  Thoyras,  et  autant  de 
Mariana,  arrive  encore  un  Martinclli,  qui  veut  que  je  le  suive  en  enfer,  en 
purgatoire,  et  en  paradis,  et  qui  me  dit  des  injures  parce  que  je  ne  veux  pas  y 
aller  !    Cela  dusespere.    La  vue  d'une  biblothcque  me  fait  tomber  en  syncope. 

Mais,  me  dit  M.  Gervais,  pensez-vous  qu'on  se  mette  plus  en  peine  dans  ce 
pays-ci  de  vos  Chinois  et  de  vos  Indiens,  que  vous  ne  vous  souciez  des  prefaces 
du  signor  Martinelli.'  Eh  bien  !  ftl.  Gervais,  n'imprimez  pas  mes  Chinois  et 
mes  Indiens. 

M.  Gervais  les  imprima. 

Voltaire.     Leltres  Chinoises,  &c.  xii. 


LIST 


OF    SUCH    LIVING    PERSONS 

AS  ARE  PARTICULARLY   MENTIONED   IN   THE  COURSE  OF  THIS  VOLUME.* 


Mr.  John  Quincy  Adams. 
American  Ambassador  to  the  court 

of . 

Prof.  Henry  J.  Anderson. 
Prof.  Charles  Anthon. 
Rev.  Mr.  Henry  Anthok. 
Autlior  of  "  Jeremy  Levis." 

B. 

H.  L.  B. 

Mr.  Wm.  Thompson  Bacon. 

Mr.  John  Bailey. 

Miss  Joanna  Baillie. 

Mr.  Banim. 

Mr.  Park  Benjamin. 

Dr.  Bird. 

Mrs.  Bird. 

Mr.  Bleecker. 

Lady  Blessington. 

Miss  Caroline  Bowles. 

Loraina  Brackett. 

Dr.  Amariah  Brigham. 

Dr.  Brownell. 

Rev.  Dr.  Wm.  C.  Brownlee, 

Bruno. 

Mr.  Wm.  Collen  Bryant, 

Mr.  Buchanan,  (Sen.  U.  S.) 

Mr.  Edward  Lytton  Bulwer. 

Mr.  Thomas  Campbell,  v 

Camus. 

Dr.  Capron. 

Mr.  Thomas  Carlyle. 

Caudex. 

Rev,  Dr.  Ciianning, 

Mrs.  Child. 


Civis. 

Mr,  Macdonald  Clarke. 

Mr,  Clay,  (Sen.  U.  S.) 

Common  Council  of  Manhattan. 

Mr.  Connor. 

Contributors  to  the  "  Knickerbocker 

Magazine." 
Contributors   to  the    "  New- York 

Mirror." 
Contributors   to  the   "  New- York 

Review." 
Mr.  James  Fennimore  Cooper. 

Mr.  George  Dearborn. 
Mr.  Charles  Dickens, 
Thomas  Downing, 
Mr.  Wm.  Duer. 
Mr.  Dwight. 

Rev.  Dr.  Manton  Eastburn. 
Miss  Maria  Edgeworth. 
Mrs.  E,  F.  Ellet. 
Mr,  Ewing,  of  Ohio,  (Sen.  U.  S.) 

Flaccus. 

Mr.  David  Hale. 
Messrs.  Harper  &  Brothers. 
Rev.  Dr.  Francis  L,  Hawks. 
Mr.  Nathaniel  Hawthorne. 
Mr,  Henry  W.  Herbert. 
Historical  Society  of  New  York. 
Mr.  Charles  F.  Hoffman. 
Lord  Holland. 
Mr.  Ball  Hughes. 
Mr.  Leigh  Hunt. 


*  The  names  in  Italic  type  are  fictitious  designations,  in  some  cases  assumed  by  the 
persons  themselves  to  whom  they  relate,  in  others  assigned  to  ihem  by  the  Author.    *  * 


XVI 11 


A    LIST    OF    TERSONS. 


Mr.  WAsriiNfiTON  Ikving. 
Mr.  Benjamin  D'Ishaeli. 


Mr.  Preston,  (Sen.  U.  S,) 
Mr.  Joseph  Price. 


General  Jackson, 
Mens.  J.  Janon,  (the  critic  of  tiic 
Journal  ilea  Dibats.) 

Mrs.  Frances-Kemble  Butler. 
Mr.  Charles  King. 

Miss  L.  E.  Landon. 

Mr.  Leavitt. 

Mr.  J.  G.  Lockhart. 

Mr.  Richard  Adams  Locke. 

Mr.  Long. 

M. 
M.mGlTES. 

Mattbias. 

Miss . 

Mr.  Mitchell,  (the  translotor  of 

Aristophanes.) 
Molcus. 
Maria  Monk. 
Mr.  Clement  C.  Moore. 
Mr.  Nathaniel  F.  Moore. 
Mr.  Thomas  Moore. 

Mr.  M.  M.  Noah. 

Mr.  Daniel  O'Connel. 
Mr.  Lacghton  Osborn. 
Mr.  Robert  Owen. 

Mr.  John  Howard  Payne. 

Frances  Partridge. 

Mr.  James  K.  Pavlding. 

PETROmUS. 

Mr.  Tyrone  Power. 

Mr.  William  II.  Prescott. 


Dr.  David  M.  Reese. 
Father  Richards. 
Mr.  Leitch  Ritchie. 
Mr.  RoscoE. 
Signer  Rossini. 
RUBETA. 
Signer  Rubini. 

F.  W.  S. 

Parson  S . 

Mr.  Daniel  Seymour. 
Dr.  John  Augustine  Smith. 
Mr.  Robert  Southey. 
Mr.  William  L.  Stone. 
Old  Suffolk. 

Mr.  Thomas  Noon  Talfourd. 

Signer  TamburiiNI. 

Mr.  Arthur  Tappan. 

Tartar. 

Mrs.  Trollope. 

Mr.  W . 

Mr.  Adam  Waldie. 

Mr.  Ward. 

Mr.  Walsh. 

Dr.  John  Ware. 

Dr.  John  C.  Warren. 

John  JFaters. 

Prof.  Wayland. 

Mr.  James  Watson  Webb. 

Mr.  Daniel  Webster. 

Mr.  Noah  Webster. 

Mr.  Robert  W.  Weir. 

Mr.  N.  P.  Willis. 

Mr.  Secretary  Woodbury. 

Mr.  William  Wordsworth. 


The  reader  will  oblige  himself,  as  well  as  the  Editor,  by  making  the 
following  corrections  before  entering  on  the  Poem. 


Pas. 


29, 

line 

17, 

for 

152-157, 

read 

177-182. 

47, 

It 

9, 

II 

260-261,  of  Canto  iii., 

It 

216  on  page  158. 

« 

it 

— J 

" 

715, 

" 

714. 

G8, 

II 

20, 

II 

35, 

It 

34. 

95, 

II 

a4, 

II 

Vol.  1, 

II 

Vol.2. 

108, 

II 

28, 

It 

246th  verse  of  Canto  iii., 

" 

246th  verse  on  page  158. 

134, 

II 

24, 

It 

756,  Canto  iv., 

" 

757,  Canto  iii. 

149, 

II 

41, 

after 

■  Vidffi  Poet., 

It 

i.  177. 

162, 

It 

32, 

for 

258, 

It 

258  on  page  157. 

164, 

II 

6, 

II 

Fretille's  caution, 

It 

Fretille's  emotion. 

165, 

CI 

18, 

II 

635, 

II 

631, 

ti 

II 

30, 

" 

543 -&i9, 

It 

643,  549. 

179, 

II 

25, 

27, 

" 

498, 
498, 

It 
It 

493. 
493. 

184, 

II 

29, 

II 

708, 

" 

720. 

191, 

II 

41, 

II 

472, 

It 

478. 

209, 

II 

14, 

annex  ** 

. 

214, 

II 

21, 

after  man. 

insert 

when  he  saw  the  beggar. 

241, 

11 

19, 

for 

713, 

read 

714. 

267, 

II 

45, 

" 

707, 

11 

714. 

271, 

II 

2, 

after  thus, 

put  a 

;  comma. 

281, 

11 

20, 

for 

246  of  Canto  iii. 

read 

246  on  page  158. 

11 

" 

37, 

" 

246  of  the  preceding  Canto,    " 

246  on  page  158. 

There  are,  doubtless,  many  other  errors  in  the  course  of  the  volume  5  but  they  are 
such  as  will  occur  in  the  first  edition  of  ahnost  any  work  of  equal  size,  and,  as  they 
must  be  detected  at  a  glance,  they  need  no  enumeration.  Such,  for  examples,  are 
the  word  "  craven,"  p.  62,  line  20,  —  for  cavern ;  "  Fauxbourg,"  p.  136,  line  32,  —  for 
Faubourg;  and  "  Vergine,"  p.  180,  lines  14,  21,  26,  —  for  Virgine.        *  * 


CANTO   FIRST. 


THE    CONVENTION 


ARGUMENT. 

The  subject  proposed.  The  invocation.  The  scene  of  the 
action  of  the  poem.  The  members  of  the  solemn  convention 
in  a  state  of  great  despondency,  caused  by  the  want  of  coals 
and  the  absence  of  their  chief  Dulness,  concerned  lest  her 
darling  should  arrive  too  late  for  the  great  business  of  the 
night,  makes  a  bargain  with  Caution,  whereby  the  latter 
engages  to  relieve  the  hero  from  the  difficulty  into  which 
E.NVY  and  Vanity  have  plunged  him.  Awful  entrance  of  the 
rescued  monarch.  He  is  hoisted  (not  without  mischance) 
to  a  temporary  throne,  amid  the  acclamations  of  his  subjects. 
He  begins  to  recount  the  perils  from  which  he  has  escaped  ; 
and  by  a  necessary  digression  hurries  off  his  hearers  with  him 
to  Montreal,  to  the  prime  source  of  his  recent  troubles. 
RuBETA  relates  his  arrival  at  the  convent  of  the  Hotel-Dieu  ; 
his  reception  by  the  sisters  ;  his  interview  and  parley  with  the 
abbess  and  the  green  father  ;  and  how  the  abbess  told  her 
dream.  *  * 


THE 


VISION    OF    RUBETA. 


CANTO   FIRST. 

I  SING  RuBETA,  who  in  vision  dread 
Saw  tipp'd  like  Midas'  own  his  solemn  head, 
When  met,  with  other  rogues,  in  grave  debate, 
To  prop  the  throne  of  Follj's  ancient  state. 
By  virtue  rais'd  he  rul'd  it,  and  still  rules,  5 

High-Priest  of  Hypocrites  and  King  of  Fools. 

Say,  goddess  !  thou  who  chalk'st  th'  unsettled  score 
On  the  blurr'd  slate  at  Memory's  hostel-door. 
How,  flogg'd  by  Fate,  the  newsman  at  full  trot 
Jokes  left  behind,  and  broken  wind  forgot,  lo 

Ver.  6.  High-Pnest  of  Hypocrites  and  King  of  Fools.]  The  titles  con- 
ferred upon  him  by  the  united  divinities  in  the  last  Canto.  So  the  3d 
and  4th  lines  allude  to  the  actions  and  events  of  the  five  first  Cantos; 
and  the  first  division  of  the  5th  line  to  the  7th  Canto.  The  1st  and 
2d  lines  indicate  the  general  subject  and  grand  event  of  the  poem. 
7-12.  Say,  goddess  !  etc.]  ** 

Musa,  mihi  caussas  memora,  quo  numine  laeso, 
Quidve  dolens,  regina  deum  tot  volvere  casus 
Insignem  pietate  virum,  tot  adire  labores, 
Impulerit :  tantsene  animis  coelestibus  irae  ? 

ViRG.  .Eji.  i.  8-11.    (Hunter,  1799.) 
10.  Jokes  left  behind  —  ]     Nothing  but  very  superior  jockeyism  could 
have  forced  the  hero  to  this  sacrifice  ;  for  "gentle  Dul.ness  ever  loves 
a  joke  :  "  and,  as  it  will  be  seen,  joking  is  a  passion  of  Rubeta's. 


4  Tlin  VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

O'er  Prudence'  five-barr'd  gate  achiev'd  the  leap : 
Througli  hackney's  veins  can  such  high  mettle  creep? 

An  old  blind  lane  there  is  (if  there  be  such 
In  the  New  World)  ;  a  colony  of  Dutch 
Once  litter'd  there,  so  runs  the  vulgar  fame,  15 

And  gave  it  doubtless  some  good  old  Dutch  name  ; 
Since  lost  to  Webster  :  haply  this  dull  tale 
May  godsire  stand  where  city  records  fail, 
And  one  rare  scene,  S****'*  wit's  most  brilliant  sally, 
Rechristen  it  Hedge-row  or  blind  Toad-alley.         20 

Here,  on  that  snug  and  duly-number'd  spot 
In  Bleecker's  auction-bills  advertis'd  "  Lot," 
Stood  an  ag'd  roof:   the  Council  puff'd  it  down, 
To  ease  their  bristled  sheep  and  air  the  town  : 


Ver.  13,  15.  An  old  blind  lane  there  is  —  A  colony  of  Dutcb — Once 
litter'd  </iere,] 

Urbs  antiqua  fuit,  Tyrii  tenuere  coloni. 
JEn.  i.  12. 
17.  Since  lost  to  Webster  —  ]  The  lexicographer. 

19.  — 5»»*#'#  yj{i'>g  jfiQgi  brilliant  salli/,]  Commentators  generally 
conclude  that  it  is  the  name  of  the  hero  which  is  here  set  in  stars :  yet 
certainly  there  is  no  S  in  Rubeta.  It  may  be  some  familiar  title  under 
whicli  he  is  known  in  vulgar  life.  We  should  prefer,  however,  to  read 
of,  wiicn  the  verse  will  stand  thus  : 

And  one  rare  scene,  of  tvit  most  brilliant  sally  I        *  * 

20.  —  Hedge-row,  or  blind  Toad-alley.]  In  allusion  perhaps  to  the  name 
of  the  hero.  Consult  thereon  Canto  iv. ;  note  to  v.  537.  Hedge  is  also  a 
prefix  of  contempt  to  the  name  of  any  thing  particularly  low:  thus  we 
say,  hedge-priest,  hedge-poet,  hedge-neivsman,  etc.  See  Johnson,  at 
the  word.         *  * 

22.  — Blsbcibs  —  ]  The  Mr.  George  Robins,  or, in  cant  phrase,  "crack 
auctioneer,"  of  Manhattan.         *  * 


CANTO   FIRST.  6 

But  then,  when  sane,  these  righteous  overseers       25 
Brought  neither  bricks  nor  lime  on  orphans'  ears, 
If  chanc'd  improvement-whims  to  get  astride 
The  public  brain,  or  Lucre  cockhorse  ride, 
It  rear'd  secure  a  front  of  sober  gray, 

Like  Parson  S too  solemn  for  display:  30 

Yet  a  broad  sign,  the  Philpot  far  before. 
Bright  as  a  Mirror,  capp'd  the  curtain'd  door. 


Ver.  25,  28.  —  when  sane,  these  righteous  overseers  —  Brought  neither 
hricks  nor  lime  on  orphans^  ears,  etc]  For  very  obvious  reasons,  we  cannot 
illustrate  the  text  by  any  case  of  wrong  done  to  private  individuals,  by 
this  growing  abuse  of  municipal  power ;  but  the  papers  of  this  very  day 
{March  26,  1838)  furnish  a  very  sufficient  commentary,  in  the  appeal  to 
the  public  of  the  "  New  York  Dispensary."  This  charitable  institution, 
which,  as  the  directors  state,  vaccinates  annually,  without  charge,  more 
than  17,000  of  the  poor  of  the  city,  was  obliged  by  the  Corporation  to 
remove  its  offices,  that  the  street  in  which  they  stood  might  be  widened. 
The  expense  was  $8,000,  and  the  "damages  allowed  to  the  institution" 
were  $  3,600 !  This  statement  is  signed  by  some  of  the  first  names  in 
Manhattan. 

27,  28.  If  chanced  improvement-iohims  to  get  astride —  The  public  hrain^ 
Doubtless  on  the  sella  Turcica ;  an  excellent  accommodation  to  be  found, 
we  suppose,  as  well  with  that  thorough-going  hackney,  here  termed 
"  the  public  brain,"  or  the  soul  general  of  the  Corporation,  as  in  the 
organized  pulp  of  individual  humanity.         *  * 

31.  — the  Philpot  —  ]  In  Dey-street,  where  Toby,  in  all  weathers,  is 
exposed  to  the  gaze  of  his  many  admirers,  yet  never  changes  counte- 
nance. 

We  regret  to  state  that  this  sign  is  no  longer  in  its  original  situation  ;  for,  having 
made  a  pilgrimage  to  the  hallowed  spot  but  a  month  ago,  our  longing  eyes  could  no 
more  discover  the  jolly  visage  and  the  jug  of  nut-brown  ale,  which  were  so  lovelily 
conspicuous  in  Dey-street,  but  a  footlength  from  Broadway,  at  the  time  we  first 
received  the  MS.  Ah !  thought  we,  with  a  sigh  :  Ah  !  we  are  all  passing :  even 
honest  Toby  must  give  place  to  modern  innovation.        *  * 

32.  Bright  as  a  Mirror  —  ]  Whether  a  glass  mirror,  or  the  Mirror 
Magazine,  the  author  has  not  made  it  appear.  Both  are  equally  showy, 
equally  ornamental  to  a  breakfast-room  or  boudoir,  both  blank,  equally 


'riu:  \isioN  or  jiubeta. 


Here,  sable  on  a  field  of  or,  was  seen 

A  journal-printing,  editing  machine. 

So  like  the  truth  you  look'd  to  see  in  folio  35 

A  Galen's  Head  struck  off,  or  Stone's  best  olio  : 


attractive  to  misses,  and  to  misses'  men,  and  both  equally  reflect  all  sorts 
of  images.         *  * 

Bright  as  a  Mirror —  ]  The  compositor  is  permitted,  by  the  courtesy 
of  the  editor,  to  enter  a  protest  against  the  application  of  the  verse  to 
the  Mirror  Magazine,  to  which  he  has  been  long  a  gratified  subscriber, 
and  thinks  he  can  in  no  way  do  it  better  than  by  here  setting  up  the 
commencement  of  the  publisher's  modest  advertisement,  which  is  as 
follows : 

"  The  New  York  Mirror  :  A  popular  and  highly  esteemed  Journal  of  ele- 
gant Literature  and  the  Fine  Arts  :  embellished  with  magnificent  and  costly  engravings 
on  steel,  copper  and  wood,  and  rare,  beautiful  and  popular  music,  arranged  for  the 
pianoforte,  harp,  guitar,  etc.,  and  containing  articles  from  the  pens  of  well-known  and 
distinguished  writers,  upon  every  subject  that  can  prove  interesting  to  the  general 
reader  including  original  poetry  —  tales  and  essays,  humorous  and  pathetic — critic 
cal  notices early  and  choice  selections  from  the  best  new  publications,  both  Ameri- 
can and  English  —  scientific  and  literary  intelligence  —  copious  notices  of  foreign 
countries,  by  correspondents  engaged  expressly  and  exclusively  for  this  Journal  — 
strictures  upon  the  various  productions  in  the  Fine  Arts  that  are  presented  for  the 
notice  and  approbation  of  the  public — elaborate  and  beautiful  specimens  of  art,  en- 
gravini^s,  music,  etc.  —  and  an  infinite  variety  of  miscellaneous  reading  relating  to 
passing  events,  remarkable  individuals,  discoveries  and  improvement  in  science,  art, 
mechanics,  etc.  etc." 

The  remainder  of  this  simple  announcement  is  of  the  same  ingenuous 
character  ;  for  which  see  any  of  the  Manhattanese  newspapers.  Now,  if 
its  account  of  itself  be  true,  stands  not  tlie  Mirror  the  mightiest  magazine 
that  is,  has  been,  or  ever  will  be  ?  and  certainly  what  better  proof  of  its 
preeminence  can  be  adduced  than  these  its  own  assertions  ;  for  do  men 
ever  boast  of  virtues  which  they  do  not  possess  ?  or  do  not  their  actions 
always  keep  a  just  ratio  to  their  words  ?  and  arc  not  magazines  the , 
works  of  men  ? 

35,  36.  —  you  look''d  to  see  in  folio  —  Jl  GaZeji's  Head  struck  off,  or 
Stone's  best  olio :]  Certainly  an  anachronism.  Though  both  these  re- 
spectable handbills  are  of  some  standing  in  the  anarchy  of  letters,  yet 
neither  the  old  Galen's  Head,  instituted  to  prevent  the  abuse  of  mercury, 
nor  the  N.  Y.  Commercial  Advertiser,  made  facetious  to  exemplify  the 
misuse  of  common  sense,  could  have  been  running  their  parallel  course 
at  that  distant  day.        *  * 


CANTO   FIRST. 


A  trull  Stood  proper  by,  with  bosom  bare, 

And  set  the  types  whose  cells  were  painted  there. 

Not  therefore  deem  it  symbol  to  express 

That  pleasant  thing  a  prostituted  press  ;  40 

The  place  was  what  the  vulgar  ginshop  call. 

But  tavern  we,  and  clep'd  Convention- Hall. 

'T  was  here,  that  night  whose  prodigies  august 
Shake  from  my  Muse  and  best  steel  point  their  rust. 
To  chronicle  sublime  th'  unborrow'd  glory  45 

Of  him,  the  Ulysses  of  this  brave  old  story, 
'T  was  here  assembled,  on  that  night  of  awe. 
Ten  puissant  names  whose  canons  give  the  laW) 
In  party-politics  and  bastard  rhymes. 
To  all  who  pay  for  them  in  these  cheap  times,        so 
These  times  when  judgment  moves  by  engine-pow'r. 
And  wit  's  roll'd  off  two  thousand  sheets  per  hour ; 
Great  publishers  of  advertisements,  where 
For  thirty  cents  one  buys  himself  a  squarCj 
And  sees  his  privy  ills,  like  verse,  made  famous      55 
With  Saponaceous  Cream  and  soaps  of  Camus, 


Ver.  37.  —  proper  —  ]  Proper,  in  blazonry,  is  where  the  object  is 
painted  in  its  proper  colors.  Perhaps  we  should  have  noted  on  v.  33, 
that  or,  in  the  same  jargon,  denotes  the  color  of  gold.        *  * 

64.  For  thirty  cents  one  buys  himself  a  square,]    This  is  misrepresenta- 
tion ;  for  we  do  assure  the  reader  it  is  actually  fifty  cents  a  "half-square," 
and  is  so  stated  in  the  "advertisement  rates."    Read  therefore  : 
For  fifty  cents  one  buys  him  half  a  square.         *  * 

66.  —  Saponaceous  Cream  —  ]   I  suppose  the  Amhrosial  Saponaceous 


8  THE    VltJJO.N    or    KLBETA. 

Each  day  renevv'd,  as  each  coDdemns,  ere  past, 

To  uses  vile  the  paper  of  the  last : 

Ah,  meanly  sure  the  Muse's  bow  must  fail, 

From  alehouse-fiddle,  such  as  serves  this  tale,  go 

To  scrape  your  praise  !     Her  hand  the  horsehair 

reaches, 
The    cross'd    coarse    catgut  shrilly    squeaks    and 

screeches. 
The  parlor-clock,  renovvn'd  for  birdlike  note. 
Had  chanted  seven  through  the  cuckoo's  throat ; 
The  sand,  fresh-sprinkled  on  the  floor  that  night     65 
In  fairy  hills,  from  gray  vras  turn'd  to  white  ; 
Venus'  old  cuckold  spouse,  his  rites  unpaid, 
Down  on  the  shrine  his  flaccid  bellows  laid  ; 
The  starveling  candles  redden'd  at  the  wick  ; 
The  pictures  on  the  walls  look'd  dull  and  sick,        70 
(A  gafted  cock  crestfallen  seem'd  and  tame. 
His  dunghill  cousin  might  be  thought  the  game ;) 

Compound  so  advertised  ;    which  is  doubtless  the  identical  paste  the 
son  of  Maia  uses  when  he  cleans  himself,  according  to  Moliere  : 
Je  lui  donne  k  present  conge  d'etre  Sosie, 
Je  suis  las  de  porter  un  visage  si  laid  ; 
Et  je  m'en  vais  au  ciel,  avec  de  I'ambrosie 
M'en  debarbouiller  tout-a-fait. 
Mercure  dans  Z'Amphitryon  de  cet  auteur{A.  iii.  So.  10). 

*  « 

f6.  —  Cahus,]  a  well  known  perfumer  at  Paris.        *  * 
66.  — fairy  —  ]  An  epithet  given  now-a-days  to  every  thing  that  is  di- 
minutive or  delicate  ;  and  surely,  while  fairies  and  all  that  appertains  to 
them  are  objects  of  such  nightly  observation,  no  image  for  the  nonce 


CANTO   FIRST.  9 

The  newsmen's  horde,  all  gather'd  to  a  man, 
(All  but  the  dark-brow'd  sachem  of  tlie  clan,) 
With  skirts  dissever'd,  group'd  about  the  hearth,     75 
As  their  hose  cool'd  grew  languid  in  their  mirth, 
The  mercury  descending  dropp'd  ev'n  joke, 
And  only  of  the  great  man's  absence  spoke  : 
Why  comes  he  not  ?     'T  is  time  we  should  begin  : 
God  grant  no  Jezabel  have  lur'd  him  in  !  so 

Then  trimm'd  the  tapers  some  ;  while  others  near 
Rais'd  the  gilt  watch  to  each  alternate  ear. 
And  dubious  shook  the  wheels,  and  gap'd  to  aid  them 
hear ; 

could  be  used  with  more  advantage.  To  say,  of  a  lady's  little  digits, 
her  fairy  fingers,  or  of  her  quail  pipe,  hex  fairy  voice,  conveys  directly, 
like  "  fairy-like  music,"  ideas  which,  to  use  the  editorial  phrase,  "  come 
home  to  the  bosom  of  every  man";  every  man  having  seen,  felt,  and 
heard,  the  fingers,  voice,  and  fiddling  of  a  fairy.  Therefore  we  would 
call  the  Reader's  attention  to  this  fine  illustration  of  our  Author's  ex- 
quisite and  ready  adaptation  of  modern  improvements.         *  * 

77.  — ev'n  joke,'\  The  prerogative,  as  we  have  seen,  of  Dulness, 
and  of  these  her  children.        *  * 

79.  Why  comes  he  not  ?  etc.] 

Why  comes  he  not  ?     Such  truths  to  be  divulg'd, 
Methinks  the  accuser's  rest  is  long  indulg'd. 

Lara,  Canto  ii. 

eo.  God  grant  no  Jezabel  have  lur^d  him  in!]  We  are  not  to  suppose 
that  the  monarch  is  at  all  given  to  the  love  of  strange  women.  On 
the  contrary,  chastity,  as  we  have  elsewhere  shown,  is  a  conspicuous 
feature  of  his  character.  The  sons  of  Dulness,  being  regular  jokers, 
sometimes  oifend  against  propriety.  Not  but  tliat  a  Jezabel,  or  rather 
a  pair  of  Jezabels,  did,  on  this  particular  evening,  draw  the  newsman  in ; 
this  is  matter  of  history.  They  were  the  direct  occasion  of  his  tempo- 
rary absence.     But  then  it  was  all  in  the  cause  of  God  and  of  justice. 


lU  THE    VISION   OF   IIUBETA. 

Or  captur'd  thieves  that  pirate  in  the  grease  ; 

Or  scribbled  on  the  walls  some  fulsome  piece ;  85 

Cawing  like  crows,  their  work  betwixt  at  times, 

Songs  sweet  as  Lytton's  epithet-chok'd  rhymes, 

Which  jumbled  up  of  divers  sorts  of  things. 

One  wonders  what  the  devil  't  is  he  sings. 

A  gentle  set,  each  worthy  Folly's  throne  ;  90 

Yet  fourteen  such  it  takes  to  make  one  Stone. 

Alone  the  treasurer  his  ample  croup 

Held  to  the  fire,  nor  join'd  the  impatient  troop. 

But  shivering,  with  a  sigh  which  rent  their  souls, 

Mutter'd  of  funds,  and  cry'd  aloud  for  coals.  95 

So  when,  sore-pinch'd,  the  mother-hound  for  food 

Steals  from  the  kennel  and  her  blue-ey'd  brood ; 

While  warm  the  straw,  the  milk-fed  litter  play, 

And  tumble  o'er  each  other  feebly  gay, 

Ver.  87-89.  Songs  sweet  as  Lttton's  epithet-choked  rhymes,  etc.] 
"  Chapelain  veut  rimer,  et  c'est-la  sa  folie."  * 

These  verses  were  intended  to  apply  to  those  purj)le  things  with 
which  Mr.  Bul.wer  has  thought  proper  to  patch  his  glittering  novels. 
But  many  months  after  the  first  canto  of  the  Vision  was  written,  the 
Author  came  across  a  larger  metrical  composition  of  this  popular 
writer's,  entitled  The  Rebel,  which  he  found  to  have  rather  more  of  the 
features  of  regular  rhyme.  Only  it  surprised  him  much,  that  any  man 
should  have  chosen  to  mimic  The  Corsair,  the  poem  of  an  author  whose 
strong  mannerism,  however  delightful  in  itself,  must  make  his  imitators 
always  appear  in  the  plight  of  a  little  serving-man  whose  ill-proportioned 
and  diminutive  members  have  recently  tumbled  into  the  long-tailed  coat 
and  capacious  breeches  of  his  strapping  master  of  six  feet. 

*  BoiLEAU.  »  * 


CANTO   FIRST.  11 

But,  when  their  flanks  grow  chill,  and  palate  dries,  loo 
Her  absence  moan  with  weak  and  plaintive  cries. 
The  wit-hounds  yelp'd  dry  sorrow  for  the  treat 
Of  pipes  and  drams,  the  puppies  mourn  the  teat. 

But  'mid  the  heroic  group,  unnotic'd,  stood 
Two  beings  whose  veins  not  purple  ran  with  blood,  105 
But  pulseless  essence,  such  as  fits  a  god ; 
Coeval  with  creation ;  still  the  same 
Till  the  last  thunder  wrap  the  world  in  flame  : 
DuLNESs  and  Caution.     This,  to  mortal  eye. 
Might  seem  an  emmet ;  that,  a  great  blue  fly,        no 
Such  as  in  winter,  curs'd  with  lengthen'd  doom. 
Buzzes  all  lonely  through  the  tepid  room. 
Midway  the  table  stood  the  ethereal  pair, 
And  thus  began  the  seeming  child  of  air : 

See  !  goddess,  pale-ey'd  mother  of  Distrust  !    ii5 
Believ'st  thou  now  ?     Or  is  the  number  just  ? 
Not  these  the  Muses  ;  nor  so  scant  my  crew. 
Gerro  is  here,  and  Pupa  ;  Caudex  too  ; 
Petronius'  grace  ;  lo,  where  gigantic  Hale  ! 
My  son,  my  joy,  is  wanting  to  the  tale.  120 

Ver.  115.  See!  goddess,  etc.]  This  is  proved,  from  v.  134-136,  as 
well  as  from  the  fact  that  her  goddesship  and  Dulness  appear  to  be  on 
sufficiently  good  terms  to  trade  together,  to  be  not  the  Caution,  synon- 
ymous with  Prudence,  the  daughter  of  Experience  and  Wisdom,  but 
a  very  different  deity,  sometimes  mistaken  for  her,  and  whose  province, 
in  part,  may  be  easily  conjectured  from  the  verses  just  referred  to, 
whUe  her  profitable  influence  is  to  be  seen  daily  testified  in  most  jour- 
nals, whether  political  or  otherwise.         *  * 


12  THC   V'ISIOiN   OF   RUBETA. 

O  Caution  !  though  apostate  from  thy  shrine, 

Save  the  dull  chief;   for  my  sake,  ah,  for  mine! 

Envy  and  Vanity  both  goad  him  on  ; 

With  banded  foes  the  hero  copes  alone  : 

What  do  I  say?  e'en  now  the  toil  is  set !  125 

Now,  now,  the  lion  struggles  in  the  net ! 

Are  not  his  foes  thy  own  ?     Go,  snatch  him  thence  ; 

Bring  here  his  glad  vacuity  of  sense  ; 

Without  whose  aid  all  wasted  runs  the  hour, 

And  the  act  sleeps  should  consecrate  my  pow'r.     130 

Look  on  these  peers,  tall  pillars  of  my  throne  ; 

Yet  choose  the  best,  that  best  is  hence  thy  own ; 


Ver.  127.  ^Ire  not  his  foes  thy  own^  To  wit,  Bnmo  Sf  Co.,  as  appears 
from  V.  150,  and  from  the  hero's  own  account  presently  given.  Bruno's 
passion  blinds  him  even  in  the  pulpit.         *  * 

130.  — the  act  —  should  consecrate  my  poiv^r.]  This  is  the  act  for 
■which  RuBETA  is  elevated  to  the  throne  in  Canto  vii.,  as  alluded  to  in 
the  proposition  : 

"  When  met  with  other  rogues  in  grave  debate, 
To  prop  the  throne  of  Folly's  ancient  state, 
By  virtue  raised  he  ruVd  it," *  * 

131-144.  Look  07}  these  peers,  etc.] 

'Kyu  01  XI  Toi  'Ka^iruv  fiictv  oTXori^a.tJv 

CiUffu  i'Tuiifitvai,  Koi  ariv  xtKXtjffffcci  axeiriv, 
Tlarihtiv,  Us  ctliv  ii\iiai  »fAara,   ■jraM'ra,, 

Ay^ii,  tuv  ftei  ofiofftrov  auarov  ^rvyls  v^cjp, 
X«/ji  Ss  rn  tTi^rt  (/Xm  'i\i  ^('ovx  vouXuSoTiioaf, 
Xri  0      iTlori  aXa  jLta^fiaoitif  *    "va  vcoi'v  a.'jra.irts 
MajTfooi  uf'  01  ivi^h  S^toi  Kjovov  i/u.fi'if  iivrts  • 

H  ft\v  Ifioi  "hioffiiti  Xaj/roiy  fiiav  ovXnTtoccaiv 
Xiecrigiriv,  rn  t    auros  iiXdi>iu,ai  HftaTot  TiivTtc. 

HoM.  n.  xiv.  2G7-27f;.  Clarkii.  £rfm.  ISmo.  1794. 


CANTO  FIRST.  13 

To  thee  shall  dedicate  his  future  days, 
Toil  in  thy  mask,  and  serve  thee  divers  ways, 
Become  a  very  Proteus  for  thy  sake,  135 

And  ev'ry  humor  at  thy  bidding  take. 

Swear  by  thy  mother  Night,  the  ant  replies  ; 
Swear  by  thy  son,  most  like  thee  'neath  the  skies  ; 
Swear  by  thyself,  all  changeless  as  thou  art, 
Dash'd  by  no  shame,  excited  by  no  smart,  140 

To  me  the  youth  shall  dedicate  his  days, 
Toil  in  my  mask,  and  serve  me  divers  ways. 
Become  a  very  Proteus  for  my  sake. 
And  ev'ry  humor  at  my  bidding  take. 

The  dark-wing'd  Power  took  the  oath  impos'd  ;  145 
And  the  staid  emmet  thus  the  compact  clos'd  : 

Remember,  goddess  of  the  wilder'd  eye, 
'T  is  but  for  once  if  Caution  deign  comply : 

Ver.  132.  —  is  hence  thy  oivn;]  Not  entirely ;  for  they  were  born  sons 
of  Ddlness,  and  the  Ethiop  cannot  change  his  skin.  But  when  taken 
under  the  supervision  and  protection  of  Caution,  they  lose  their  flip- 
pancy and  pertness,  as  their  general  mother  herself  says,  v.  174,  and 
become  henceforward  slower-paced  and  more  sure-footed.  *  * 

137.  —  thy  mother  Night  —  ]    According  to  the  genealogy  established 
by  Pope  (Drtden  not  having  ascended  to  her  origin): 
Daughter  of  Chaos  and  eternal  Night. 

Duncind,  i.  12.         *  * 

147.  — goddess  of  the  wilder^d  eye,]  A  very  able  critic,  who  confesses 
he  does  not  understand  this  figurative  phrase,  proposes  to  read  drowsy 
eye ;  very  rashly,  as  it  seems  to  us.  Ddlness  is  not  so  much  marked 
by  drowsiness,  which  though  habitual  is  not  constant  with  her,  as  by  a 
peculiar,  unsettled,  twinkling  glimmer  of  the  eyes,  which  gives  her  an 
appearance  as  though  she  fancied  she  had  just  lost  the  wits  she  never 


14  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Known  is  thy  son  no  votary  of  mine, 
And  wliLMi  red  Bruno's  meshes  I  untwine,  150 

Take  liini  the  powers  to  whom  his  altars  burn, 
And  Vanity  and  Envy  serve  his  turn. 

She  said,  and  crept  to  Pupa's  head,  then  past 
To  LoRA,  Gerro,  so  on  to  the  last ; 
While   on   the   wing   Night's   daughter   hovering 

near,  i55 

Still  caught  the  sounds  unheard  of  mortal  ear : 

First  will  I  naught,  (thus  spake  the  emmet-queen,) 
Of  this  blown  dunce,  of  self-sufficient  mien. 


possessed,  and  were  in  search  of  them.  Those  who  have  the  rare  felicity 
of  knowing  our  hero,  her  undoubted  progeny,  have  seen  in  his  orbits  of 
vision  the  maternal  feature  perfect,  and  the  maternal  expression  (es- 
pecially when  he  lectures)  ethereally  fine :  those  who  have  not,  will 
derive  some  information  on  the  subject  from  our  note  to  v.  192  of 
Canto  iv.        *  * 

180.  —  red  Bruno  —  ]  We  know  not  whether  in  allusion  to  the  ordi- 
nary complexion  of  that  reverend  gentleman,  or  to  a  particular  heighten- 
ing of  the  sacerdotal  color,  by  the  united  heat  of  polemical  zeal  and 
literary  fury.     Probably  the  latter,  in  this  instance.         *  * 

152.  —  Vanitt  and  Envt  serve  his  twn.]  And  accordingly  these  de- 
ities resume  possession  for  the  rest  of  the  evening.        *  * 

158.  —  bloivn  dunce,  of  self-sufficient  mien.]  It  may  be  wondered  that 
she  should  not  choose  Petro.mus,  who,  it  will  be  seen  in  Canto  iv,  is  a 
very  weathercock;*  but  TronVs  vacillancy  arises  not  from  any  motive 
of  speculative  cautiousness,  (though  he  stands  accountant  for  as  great 
a  sin,)  but  from  puerile  rashness,  lightheadedness,  and  the  feminine 
unhappiness  of  never  knowing  his  own  mind.  And  moreover  this  very 
inconstancy,  instead  of  benefiting  him  as  his  more  cunning  mates,  gets 
him  into  difficulties  that  are  the  very  abomination  of  Caution,  who 
never  acts  at  random,  however  various  her  movements.         *  * 

*  Except  in  party-politics,  where  he  loses  his  pivot.        •  * 


CANTO  FIRST.  15 

Look,  how  his  beak  snuffs  up  the  vulgar  air  ! 

His  ejes  twin  berries  in  a  bush  of  hair.  ico 

Strut,  peacock  !   for  the   fowls  wherewith  thou  'rt 

match'd 
Care  not  a  grain  what  goose  their  mothers  hatch'd. 
Nor  yet  of  him,  yon  ribald  spawn  of  dirt. 
Dully  despiteful,  pitifully  pert ; 

So  like,  in  tongue,  the  beast  for  whom  he  stands,   ig5 
The  first  green  ditch  would  take  him  off  my  hands. 
All  look  but  frail :  I  know  not  where  to  fix ; 
But,  to  make  sure,  will  take  some  five  or  six. 
Petronius,  Hale,  Margites,  still  be  thine  : 
The  rest  may  make  one  man ;  that  man  is  mine.   170 

What !   said  the  fly  :  these  six  to  grace  thy  lap  ? 
Thou  'It  jar  the  sweetest  bells  in  all  my  cap ! 
A  lively  fool  's  a  fool  above  all  cost : 
Once  make  'em  thine,  and  half  their  virtue  's  lost. 
I  deem'd  this  post  might  serve  thee.    Caution  then : 

Thou  hast  Margites,  and  the  king  of  men.       176 

Ver.  161,  162.  —  the  folds  wherewith  thou  ''it  matched  —  Care  not  a  grain 
what  goose  their  mothers  hatched.]  Petronius  has  the  credit,  with  his 
contemporaries,  of  being  not  a  little  vain  of  the  respectability  of  his 
birth  ;  for  an  account  of  which,  see  Canto  iv.         *  * 

163.  —  yon  ribald  spawn  of  dirt,]  Coprones,  the  representative  of 
Margites  in  that  convention.     For  Margites'  character  see  Canto  iv. 

*  * 

169.  —  Mabgites  —  ]  Margites  for  Coprones,  the  principal  for  the 
proxy,  the  master  for  the  man.     So,  in  line  176.         *  * 

175.  —  post  —  ]  All  the  older  copies  write  this  word  with  a  capital 
letter.    Caudex  is  supposed  to  be  the  journalist  indicated.        *  * 

176.  —  the  king  of  men.]  Codd.  ant.  "  the  King  of  men."  Petro- 
nius, of  course,  is  intended  by  the  periphrasis.        *  * 


16  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Say  these  should  fail,  is  not  thy  son  a  host  ? 
Not  more  thine  own  than  Levity's  proud  boast. 

Sweet  to  the  ear  the  glory  of  one's  child  : 
DuLNESS    buzz'd    pleasure,   and    (in    heart)    she 
smil'd.  180 

Bent  on  her  task,  the  ant  weighs  first  of  all 
Ten  different  plans  to  issue  from  the  Hall. 
When  lo  !  coal-bearing  Sappho  trundled  in. 
Caution  takes  passage  on  her  sable  shin. 
Once  clear'd  the  door,  she  took  another  form,         185 
Crept  to  the  chief  and  drew  him  from  the  storm.    , 

But,  waiting  for  her  child,  from  head  to  head 
Buzz'd  the  blue  fly,  and  swallow'd  all  they  said  ; 
Delighted,  thought  such  wits  were  never  born, 
And  griev'd  already  for  the  oath  she  'd  sworn.        190 

Ver.  178.  J^ol  more  thine  oivn  than  LEnrr's  proud  boast.]  That  is,  Who 
is  not  less  the  true  child  of  his  father  than  the  heir  of  his  mother ;  for 
Lkvity,  it  will  be  seen  in  the  genealogy  of  Rubeta,  bears  the  same 
honorable  relation  to  the  hero  in  the  male  gender  that  Dul>-ess  does  in 
the  female.        *  * 

185.  —  she  took  another  form,]  Namely,  of  Bruno's  cook,  as  the  hero 
himself  supposes,  who  could  not  however  have  that  certainty  of  the 
divine  nature  of  the  aid  he  received,  which  the  Poet  enjoys  in  the  inspi- 
ration of  ills  art : 

"  I  must  have  dy'd  ;  but  Heav'n  sent  up  the  cook, 
Or  some  kind  deity  her  likeness  took. 
Who  by  the  neckcloth  drew  me  from  their  rage, 
Dragg'd  through  the  hall,  and  open  set  the  cage, 
Then  kicking  me,  reloas'd  my  torn  cravat, 
And  sent  me  down  the  steps  without  a  hat." 

Can/o  iii.,  632-637.        ** 


CANTO   FIRST.  17 

And  now  the  half-hour  rung  with  startling  sound. 
One  solemn  Damn!  prolong'd  its  echoes  round. 
Then,  swift  as  light,  by  Boots'  or  Satan's  aid, 
The  whitewash'd  door  wide  open  stood  display'd, 
And  curs  of  both  degrees,  from  Paul  to  Peter,        195 
Broad  base  and  little  treble,  yelp'd  RUBETA  ! 

Then  shook  the  dramshop,  thrill'd  each  window- 
frame, 
And  all  the  privies  echo'd  back  the  name.. 

So  when  Azazel,  cherub  tall,  unfurl'd 
Satan's  broad  ensign  in  the  brimstone  world,        200 
The  gather'd  host's  wild  triumph  of  delight 
Hell's  concave  tore,  and  pierc'd  the  realm  of  Night, 

The  great  man  inward  row'd  his  solemn  state  ; 
Bland  smiles  as  ushers  of  the  presence  wait ; 

Ver.  195.  —  curs  of  both  degrees  —  ]     "  And  curs  of  low  degree.'*' 

196.  —  RuBETA  ./]     For  an  explanation  of  the  name  according  to  the 
notions  of  the  Author,  see  our  note  to  v.  537  of  Canto  iv.         *  * 

197.  Then  shook  the  dramshop,  etc.] 

Hell  trembled  at  the  hideous  name,  and  sigh'd 
From  all  her  caves,  and  back  resounded  Death. 

Par.  Lost,  ii.  788,  789. 

198.  ^nd  all  the  privies  echoed  back  the  name.]     Doubtless,  as  being, 
certain  shrines  of  certain  Muses.         *  * 

199.  So  when  Azazel,  etc.]      See   Milton's   Paradise  Losty  Bk.  i., 
534  -  543.        *  * 

203.  TTie  great  man   inivard  roxv'd  his  solemn  state;]     "  Row'd   her 
state"   is  a  borrowed*   expression   of  Milton's,  applied   to  another 

*  Virgil  applies  the  metaphor  to  the  more  rapid  motion  of  flight : 

Volat  itle  per  afira  magnum: 

Remigio  alarum j^n.  i.  300. 

Whence  perhaps  Thomson's  elegant  and  happily  descriptive  line, 

"  The  boat,  light-skimming,  stretch'd  its  oary  wings."     Avfumn,  129.         *  * 

3 


18  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Though  blue  the  fount  where  life  goes  in  and  out,  205 
Freely  he  scatters  much  sweet  breath  about, 
Naming  with  graciousness  a  favor'cl  few  : 
PETRomus?  bless  me!     Hale!  ah,  how  do'  do. 
They  led  him  onward,  mincing  all  the  way. 
With  sweet,  reluctant,  diffident  delay,  210 

Where  bronz'd  by  service  stood  a  three-legg'd  throne. 
Such  as  exalts  the  puppetshow  of  Joan, 
Then  heav'd  him  stiffly  up  the  steep  ascent. 
His  breeches  giving  way  with  awful  rent. 
O,  in  that  hour,  had  they  who  bore  thee  up,  2i5 

O'ercome  with  mirth,  but  let  thy  carcass  drop, 
No  muse,  alas  !  had  sung  thy  Vision  dread. 
And  this  thy  installation  were  as  dead. 
Through  criminal  backsliding  of  thy  breeches. 
As  thine  own  Masonry,  or  Tales  and  Sketches  !      220 


graceful  creature:  [Par.  Lost,  vii.  439.)  It  is  imitated  by  Pope, 
(Dune.  ii.   67  :)  "  Bernard  toavs  his  state." 

205.  Tliough  blue  the  fount  ivhere  life  goes  in  and  out,]  From  this 
circumstance  and  the  burning  of  a  fire,  we  gather  the  time  of  action  to 
have  been  winter,  or  the  cold  season ;  a  point  of  some  importance  to 
the  historical  accuracy  of  the  narrative,  and  which  Avil]  be  duly  appreci- 
ated by  future  chronologists.         *  * 

208.  riiiRONius ?  bless mc!  —  ]  The  astonishment  of  Rubeta  at  seeing 
the  delicate  PetroiMus  in  such  company  is  easily  understood  from 
what  is  said  by  the  prudent  goddess  in  v.  159.         *  * 

210.  With  sweet,  etc.]     And  sweet,  reluctant,  amorous  delay. 

Milton,  of  Eve,  P.  L.  iv.  311. 

211,  212.  —  a  threi-legg''d  throne,  —  Such  as  exalts  the  puppetshoiv  of 
Joan,]  Doubtless  similar  to  the  lofty  stool  used  occasionally  by  com- 
positors in  a  printing-office.        *  * 


Tkcri  he^av'LL  hi'/n  sUjjly  up  tke  steep  ascgHt, 
His  br&ect%es gi-vLn^  way  wUk  awful  rent . 

Cantff   J    P   /6> 


CANTO   FIRST.  19 

But  C^SAR  might  not  sink,  nor  thou  descend! 

The  monarch  rose,  with  emptiness  to  friend. 

And  pleas'd  look'd  down  the  height  with  aspect  bold, 

Yet  felt  the  rent,  and  wish'd  his  seat  less  cold. 

He  wanted  but  a  cap  and  bells,  to  look  225 

As  very  a  fool  as  ever  fumbled  book ! 

Then  wav'd  his  people's  hands,  and  one  loud  cheer 
One  moment  thunder'd  on  his  happy  ear. 
Like  as  when  sudden  rains  come  rattling  down, 
On  market-day,  to  catch  some  market-town ;  230 

With  coats  tuck'd  up,  the  bare-legg'd  wenches  scour, 
And  hucksters  yield  their  bagpipe  to  the  show'r ; 
When  o'er,  the  crowd  their  draggled  steps  retrace, 
And  the  old  bustle  murmurs  through  the  place. 
So  rose,  so  ceas'd,  the  transport  of  applause  ;         235 
Ceas'd,  when  the  monarch  spread  his  lion  jaws. 
Thus,  when  an  engine  is  prepar'd  to  spout 
Whose  jetting  stream  puts  conflagrations  out, 
First  all  is  tumult  with  th'  encircling  crowd, 
And  boys  delighted  shout  their  rapture  loud  ;  240 

Hush'd  is  the  din,  in  mute  expectance  laid. 
When  the  pipe  's  pointed  and  the  arms  are  sway'd. 

The  monarch  hitch'd  his  trowsers,  look'd  around. 
And  squar'd  the  throne  with  harsh  and  pompous 
sound  ; 

Ver.  244.  —  harsh  —  ]     This  epithet  probably  alludes  to  the  floor's 
beingr  sanded.         *  * 


20  THE   VISION   or   RUBETA. 

Then  hemm'd,  and  cough'd,  and  made  his  eyelids 

close,  245 

And  furrow'd  deep  the  skin  above  his  nose, 

And  stiok'd  the  paps  which  graceful  ilank'd  his  chin  ; 

Rhetoric  flourish  ere  he  should  begin. 

O  spirit  of  departed  Garcia,  tell 

What  sounds  enchanting  from  the  newsman  fell  I    250 

Thy  pipe  alone,  or  tenor  of  Rubini, 

Would  serve,  or  barytone  of  Tamburini. 

With  eyes  and  mouth  wide  open,  stood  the  clan. 
Then  from  his  lofty  stool  the  chief  began : 

O  comrades,  friends,  the   griefs  I  've  travaill'd 
through,  255 

Your  lips,  which  speak  not,  bid  to  swell  anew  : 

Ver.  253-267.  With  eyes  <tnd  mouth  wide  open  stood  the  clan. —  OThen 
from  his  lofty  stool,  etc.] 

Conticuere  omnes,  intentique  ora  tenebant; 
Inde  toro  pater  ^Eneas  sic  orsus  at  alto : 

Infandum,  regina,  jubes  renovare  dolorem; 
Trojanas  ut  opes  et  laraentabile  regnum 
Eruerint  Danai ;  queeque  ipse  miserrima  vidi, 
Et  quorum  pars  magna  fui.     Q,uis  talia  fando 
Myrmidonum,  Dolopumve,  aut  duri  miles  Ulyssei, 
Teniperet  a  lacrymis?  et  jam  nox  humida  coelo 
Prfficipitat,  suadentque  cadentia  sidera  somnos. 
Sed,  si  tantus  amor  casus  cognoscere  nostros, 
Et  breviter  Trojse  supremum  audire  laborem  ; 
Quamquam  animus  meminisse  horret,  luctuque  refugit, 

Incipiain. 

Y1RG..E71.  ii.  1-13. 

356.  —  the  griefs  I  're  travaiWd  through, —  Your  lips,  tvhich  speak  not, 
bid  to  swell  aneiv :]  Mark  with  what  wonderful  acuteness  Rubeta 
penetrates  their  wishes.     They  needed  not  to  call  upon  him  to  excuse 


CANTO  FIRST.  SI 

How  graceless  ministers,  and  Monks  as  bad, 
Detain'd  me  late,  and  all  but  drove  me  mad  ; 
Till  anchor'd  here,  for  mighty  projects  spar'd : 
What  things  I  saw,  and  what  in  part  I  dar'd.  260 

Who  telling,  hearing  which,  could  hold  from  tears  ? 
E'en  Bruno's  self  would  weep,  or  stop  his  ears. 
But  night  grows  old,  yon  sooty  tapers  wink. 
Your  pipes  are  yet  claycold,  unserv'd  your  drink  : 

his  tardiness :  they  rear  him  on  the  stool ;  they  group  themselves 
around ;  they  set  their  eyes  wide  open  and  their  mouths  apart,  and  fix 
them  on  the  chieftain  :  the  hero  comprehends  their  silent  interrogatory, 
and  with  the  graciousness  of  true  majesty  deigns  at  once  to  answer  it. 
How  inferior  the  penetration  and  the  breeding  of  ^Eneas  !  he  waits 
until  the  queen  expresses  verbally  her  longing :  "jubes  renovare." 

257.  —  and  Mo7iks  as  bad,']  As  there  are  no  monks  to  be  found  in 
his  story,  this  must  be  an  hyperbolical  plurality  of  one  Maria  of  that  ilk, 
or  a  term  generic  for  her  and  her  younger  sister-virgin,  who  were  a 
conspicuous  cause  of  the  monarch's  delay  in  opening  by  his  presence 
the  solemn  council ;  and  thus  pater  Rubeta  may  be  supposed  to  run  a 
quibble  between  ministers  and  monks,  a  species  of  wit  which  it  will  be 
seen  hereafter  he  aims  at,  however  unsuccessfully,  on  all  occasions. 
He  is  already  said  to  ever  love  a  joke.        *  * 

260.  JfTiat  things  1  saw,  and  tvhat  in  part  I  dar''d.'\  Very  many 
months  after  the  scene  at  the  Convention,  Rubeta  is  found  repeating 
this  expression  in  his  journal,  which  shows  how  deeply  imbued  is  this 
truly  great  man  with  the  spirit  of  classic  lore. 

"We  have  written,"  he  says,  [Covimerc.  Adv.  of  Sept.  4th,  1837; 
article,  Animal  Magnetism,)  "  We  have  written  a  narrative  of  the  cir- 
cumstances, comprising  some  fifty  or  sixty  pages  of  foolscap ;  and  we 
venture  to  say,  that  nothing  hitherto  published  upon  that  subject  is  so 
wonderful  by  far,  as  the  facts  of  which  we  were  witness,  —  all  of  ivhich 

we    saw,  AND  PART    OF    WHICH    WE    WERE."  *  * 

Ver.  261.  fVho  telling,  hearing  ivhich,  could  hold  from  tears  ?]  The  pe- 
culiar tenderness  of  the  hero's  disposition  (of  which  many  instances  in 
the  course  of  his  most  Avondrous  narrative  will  be  brought  before  the 
reader)  allows  us  to  conjecture,  that,  at  this  particular  point  of  his  dis- 
course, he  suited  the  action  to  the  word.         **■  * 


22  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Still,   if   your  hearts  would   follow   where   I   've 

been,  265 

Though  my  hair  bristles  to  retrace  the  scene, 
Attend.     At  that  soft  hour  when  capons  roost, 
But  mortal  crops  expand  to  tea  and  toast, 
I,  whose  tir'd  mind  can  never  relish  sleep. 
Nor  palate  souchong,  while  my  brothers  weep,       270 
Was  begging  through  the  streets,  with  box  in  hand. 
For  Northern  pills  to  purge  the  Southern  land, 
Stupendous  work !  through  grace  divine  begun, 
To  free  some  hundred  thousands  one  by  one. 
When,  —  mark  how  Heav'n   rewards   our   good 

deserts !  275 

Sudden  black  Cato  plucks  me  by  the  skirts  : 
Not  glossy  black,  as  when  I  set  him  free. 
But  pallid,  gaunt ;  a  child's  thrice-turn'd  coatee, 

267.  Jlltend.  —  ]  It  will  be  wonderedat  first  how  the  chieftain  could 
enter  the  house  with  so  much  cheerfulness  after  so  many  trials  under- 
gone, "  tot  labores,"  as  he  here  intimates ;  but  it  will  be  seen  that  the 
consciousness  of  duty  well  performed,  as  he  himself  makes  known  at 
the  conclusion  of  his  story,  is  oil  to  the  fluctuations  of  a  troubled  mind : 
So  "  blest  the  man  who  always  keeps 
The  pure  and  perfect  way."         *  * 

271.  Was  begging  through  the  st)-eets  —  ]  See  "  N.  Y.  Coram.  Ad- 
vertiser," passim  for  the  last  two  years. 

273, 274.  Stupendous  work !  through  grace  divine  begun,  —  To  free  some 
hundred  thousands  one  by  one,]  An  ingenious  project,  well  worthy  of  the 
enlightened  philanthropist  and  hero  of  this  poem.  Some  thousand  of 
years  hence  I  hope  to  live  to  see  this  great  work  accomplished,  provided 
the  men  and  women  whom  Rubeta,  a  verse  or  two  above,  calls  his 
brethren,  will  only  show  a  little  of  the  public  spirit  which  animates  this 
apostle  of  emancipation,  and  not  come  together.        *  * 


CANTO   FIRST.  23 

Tailless,  disclos'd  a  hideous  gape  behind, 
Whose  shirtless  breech  let  in  and  out  the  wind.      280 
No  man  he  seem'd,  but  pickled-hide  and  bones, 
And  his  long  heel  smote  leatherless  the  stones. 
Not  Cato's  self,  when  Hector  stripp'd  him  bare 
On  Troy's  green  bank,  look'd  less  in  want  of  air. 
Yet  Fortune  sunn'd  her  cheerly  at  the  rents  :         285 
For  Freedom's  wealth ;  her  cap  adorns  our  cents. 
But  mark,  I  say,  how  Heaven  repays  the  just! 
Reprieving  from  his  gums  a  spotted  crust, 
The  spiritous  imp  of  freedom,  shuffling  near 
His  fragrant  mummy,  dropp'd  this  in  mine  ear :     290 
How  the  veil'd  doves,  late  fled  the  spital's  wall, 
Sat  cooing  loud  in  rev'rend  Bruno's  hall : 

Ver.  283.  JVot  Cato's  self,  etc.]  Rubeta's  classical  knowledge  has  long 
been  familiar  to  the  public.  In  such  a  man  learned  allusions  can  never 
be  deemed  pedantic ;  while,  to  all  true  lovers  of  the  poet  Ilias,  the 
recollection  of  the  famous  duel  between  Hector  and  the  elder  Cato, 
by  the  river  Trot,  must  be  truly  refreshing.         *  * 

287.  But  mark,  I  say,  how  Heaven  repays  the  just !  ]  Observe  how 
modestly  Rubeta  distinguishes  between  the  obligations  of  humanity 
and  the  favors  of  a  generous  spirit.  He  does  not  call  himself  kind,  or 
charitable,  as  perhaps  any  other  man  had  done  in  similar  circumstances, 
but  just,  as  one  who  had  done  to  his  fellow  what  he  would  have  him 
do  to  him,  should  their  lots  be  interchanged.  So  too,  as  he  allows 
nothing  to  himself  that  lie  does  not  deserve,  neither  does  he  fail  to 
exact  what  is  his  due,  and  recollecting  that,  though  a  duty  to  humanity, 
yet  the  office  he  had  done  the  slave  was  a  loan  unto  the  Lord,  he 
says  Avith  pardonable,  "  evangelical,"  pride,  repays,  and  not,  as  before, 
reivards.  Where  else  shall  we  find  such  equity  !  such  delicacy  of 
moral  distinction  !         *  * 

291.  —  the  veiVd  doves  —  ]  Who  these  may  be,  will  be  seen  in  a  sub- 
sequent note.        *  * 


24  THE    VISION    OF   RUBETA, 

There  Molcus  flutter'd  round  them  ;   what  to  do, 
Wise  Cato  said,  the  Devil  only  knew. 

'T  is  Heaven's  own  call !    I   cry'd  :  I  '11  seek  the 
foe  !  295 

Tremble,  great  pouter  1     Cato,  ere  I  go 

Ver.  293.  There  Molcus  fiutter'd  round  them  —  ]  See  tlie  second  note 
from  this.         *  * 

295-297.  Tfs  Heaven  s  oion  call!  1  crxfd,  etc.]  Rubeta  has  already 
been  compared  in  the  text  with  Cesar  :  his  resolution  on  this  occa- 
sion may  be  likened,  here,  in  the  notes,  to  that  of  Coriolanus  ;  who 
makes  it  his  boast  that  like  an  eagle  he  fluttered  his  enemies  in  their 
dovecot:  "Alone  I  did  it!"  says  Caius  Marcics  :  "I  '11  seek  the 
foe !  "   says  Rubeta  ;  that  is,  /  alone. 

Yet,  to  pursue  our  commentary,  even  with  these  words  of  defiance 
on  his  lips,  he  neglects  not  an  occasion  of  doing  good,  and  reproves 
his  dingy  brother's  profaneness:  Cato,  he  says, —  his  voice  at  once 
losing  its  military  sostenuto,  and  assuming  as  the  verse  denotes,  a  time 
larghetto  maestoso,  and  a  tone  mezzo  piano,  —  Cato,  he  says,  Don't 
swear,  my  lad !  What  bewitching  piety !  Quis,  talia  fando,  temperct, 
&c.  And  the  influence  of  this  religious  disposition  in  our  hero  is  so 
great  as  even  to  extend  its  softening  balm  ("porrigine  porci"*)  to  his 
follower  and  client;  as  is  seen  in  the  next  verse.  What  a  moral  and 
soothing  lesson!         ** 

296.  Tremble,  great  pouter !  —  ]  The  Pouter  is  a  species  of  pigeon  with 
inflated  breast.  Rubeta,  therefore,  (who  is  a  great  ornithologist,  as 
the  Reader,  before  he  is  done  with  him,  will  find  him  to  be  every  thing 
else,)  probably  means  to  signify  the  reverend  fowl  who  gave  up  part  of 
his  dovecot  to  the  Canada  Turtles  above  named.  The  allusion  is 
probably  to  some  personal  peculiarity ;  for  further  down  the  hero  will 
be  found  to  say  of  liim : 

"  Where  in  his  book  his  swollen  breast  is  seen."     v.  333.    Anon. 

lb.  — great  pouter! — ]  Some  pretend  that  in  this  personage  is 
shadowed  out  the  writer  of  the  following  con)pliments: 

"Col.  Rubeta  lias  been  repeatedly  requested  to  publish  articles  confirmatory  of  the 
'  Awful  Disclosures,'  but  has  always  declined  ;  assigning  as  his  reason  the  opposition 

of  Mr.  H ,  his  partner,  together  with  the  fact  that  they  had   a  large  number  of 

subscribers  in  Canada,  many  of  whom  would  be  displeased.    Some  time  since,  while 

*  Juvenal,  ii.  80. 


CANTO   FIRST.  25 

One  word  :     The  Devil  never  name  in  vain. 

He  wept ;  he  vow'd  his  wanton  spleen  to  rein  : 
Then  ask'd  for  threepence.     Scornfully  I  frown'd  ; 
But,  drawing  from  my  hat  Matthias  bound,  'mo 

Take  that,  I  cry'd,  and  think  on  him  who  said, 
Man  was  not  born  to  live  alone  by  bread. 
Was  it,  lean  son  of  Ham,  that  thou  might'st  dine, 
We  taught  our  modest  press  to  lie  and  whine  ? 
Avaunt !     Yet  stay  —  ingratitude's  a  vice  ;  305 

Go,  beg  an  axe,  and  clear  my  door  of  ice. 


Mr.  H was  in  Canada,  the  Colonel  penned  and  published  a  few  sentences  which 

implied  strong  confidence  in  the  truth  of  the  '  Disclosures.'     It  produced  considerable 

sensation  in  Montreal ;  so  that  three  Protestant  subscribers  came  to  3Ir.  H ,  and 

requested  that  their  paper  might  be  discontinued.     What  was  the  result  ?     Mr.  H 

returned  to  N.  Y.,  and  soon  the  Commercial  informed  its  readers  that  the  '  Awful 
Disclosures  '  were  all  a  '  humbug.'  " 

Letter  in  the  N.  Y.  Journal  of  Commerce  of  Oct.  15,  1836,  headed  "  Interview  of 
[Rubeta]  with  the  ex-nuns,  31aria  Monk  and  Frances  Partridge." 

MoLCUs  is  supposed  to  be  one  of  the  three  reverend  gentlemen  who 
subscribed  the  above  amiabilities.  Some  will  have  it  that  the  name 
{Molcus)  is  an  anagram  !         *  * 

300.  —  Matthias  —  ]  His  work  entitled  the  Impostures  of  Matthias^ 
which,  it  will  presently  be  seen,  is  a  great  favorite  with  its  immortal 
parent.         *  * 

301,  302.  —  and  think  on  him  who  said,  —  Man  ivas  not  born,  etc.]  The 
explanation  of  the  seeming  profaneness,  but  real  piety,  of  this  allusion, 
is  reserved  till  a  future  occasion  in  the  poem.  We  will  only  anticipate 
matters  so  far  as  to  inform  the  reader  that  the  allusion  is  characteristic, 
and  that  Rubeta  is  in  thought,  word,  and  deed,  an  angelic  personifica- 
tion of  the  full  beauty  of  holiness.         *  * 

303.  —  lean  son  of  Hax  —  ]  Rubeta  's  at  his  jokes  again.  *  * 
305, 306.  —  ins^ratitude^s  a  vice ;  —  Go,  beg  an  axe,  and  clear  my  door  of 
tee.]  This  good  as  well  as  great  man  never  permits  sin  when  he  can 
help  it.  How  admirably  does  he  remove  from  the  fortunate  object  of 
his  charity  even  the  plea  of  a  want  of  occasion  to  evince  his  gratitude, 
by  putting  it  into  his  power  to  repay  by  the  labor  of  his  hands  part  of 
4 


20  THE    VliSlON   OF   RUBETA. 

I  said,  and  flew,  not  waiting  for  his  thanks, 
Where  bristled,  dire   in  gowns,   swoll'n  Bruno's 

ranks. 
His  cassock  waving  o'er  them,  flag  defil'd  ! 
'Gainst    popes    ungelt,    and    vestals     great    with 

child :  310 

But  brandish'd  first  the  terrors  of  my  wand  ; 
Whose  worth  now  learn,  nor  deem  Rubeta  fond. 

O  thou,  who  once,  in  likeness  of  a  fowl, 
Taught'st  me  to  screech  and  hoot  like  any  owl, 

tlie  obligation  he  was  under !     To  the  pure  hearts  of  some  men  even 
the  thought  of  sin  is  horrible.         ** 

309.  His  cassock  ivaving  o'er  them,Jlag  defirdl]  How  shall  we  recon- 
cile this  imitation  of  Mohammed  with  the  character  of  a  Christian 
minister  ;  unless  we  are  to  take  the  language  of  Rubeta  as  metaphori- 
cal ?  Though  perhaps  the  reproachful  epithet  which  the  hero  bestows 
upon  the  cassock  of  his  enemy  may  save  the  latter  from  the  grosser 
imputation  of  following  the  practice  of  a  false  prophet;  a  kind  of  char- 
acter to  which  Rubeta  is  known  to  have  a  mortal  antipathy  :  we  say 
that  this  reproach  may  save  him;  for  we  never  heard  that  the  Arab 
was  accused  of  defiling  his  breeches  —  even  by  wearing  them,  which 
is  doubtless  the  imputation  of  our  too  severe,  though  pious  hero.         *  * 

310.  ^Gainst  popes  ungelt  —  ]     See  verse  332.         *  *' 

310.  —  and  vestals  great  loith  child :  ]  Allusion  to  the  part  which 
Bruno  played  in  a  matter  with  which  nobody  had  any  thing  to  do. 

313.  O  thou,  ivho  once,  in  likeness  of  a  fowl.^  Commentators  are  at 
fault  here.  Some  suppose  it  was  the  genius  of  Dulness  in  tlie  form 
of  the  bird  which  is  described  as  accompanying  that  divinity  in  the 
Dunciad: 

■ "  a  monster  of  a  fowl, 

Something  betwixt  a  Heideggre  and  owl :  "  * 
a  construction  at  best  illnatured.     Others  think  it  M-as  a  veritable  bird, 
known  as  the  turkeybuzzard,  which  Rubeta,  when  exalted,  as  he  de- 

*  Bk.  i.  289. 


CAiNT(J   riRST.  27 

When,  perch'd  in  attic  through  the  livelong  night,  3i5 
As  morning  broke  I  caught  the  notes  aright, 

scribes  himself  to  have  been,  both  in  body  and  mind,  might  easily  mis- 
take for  the  genius  mentioned  in  the  preceding  conjecture,  or  for  his 
own  especial  muse.  A  very  reasonable  supposition  is  that  which  would 
make  it  be  the  god  of  sleep,  perched  on  his  favorite  fir,  in  the  shape  of 
the  bird 


IVhich  Caprimulgus  gods,  men  JVigJithaivk  call. 
Others  affirm  it  was  a  peacock,  and  with  much  plausibility,  since  the 
notes  of  this  bird  are  pitched  very  much  to  the  same  key  as  the  air  and 
recitative  in  tlie  Sketches  alluded  to :  while  others,  again,  assert,  tliat 
the  object  of  the  hero's  invocation  was  nothing  less  than  the  goddess 
of  wisdom  herself  This  deity  is  known  to  have  lighted  on  a  beech  tree 
in  the  form  of  a  vulture,  to  enjoy  the  contest  of  Hector  and  AjAx.f 
Now,  as  on  that  occasion  she  chose  a  metamorphosis  which  might  be 
called  appropriate,  so  in  the  present  she  would  consistently  assume  the 
likeness  of  some  bird  of  night,  and  of  none  so  fitly  as  of  the  feathered 
symbol  of  wisdom.  The  second  and  the  fourth  conjecture  have  this 
objection,  that  we  cannot  conceive  what  should  put  a  turkeybuzzard,  or 
a  peacock,  up  to  such  a  freak  as  serenading.  We  therefore  incline  to 
the  third  opinion,  while  we  decide  for  the  last  of  all,  and  the  more  readily, 
as  RuBETA,  from  his  known  erudition,  would  be  very  likely  to  make 
such  an  apostrophe  ;  which  being  granted,  it  is  easy  to  conclude  from 
the  text,  that  the  nature  of  the  bird,  whose  form  Athena  honored  on 
this  particular  occasion,  was  actually  that  of  an  owl,  it  being  very  un- 
likely that  any  other  '  fowl '  would  give  lessons  in  the  peculiar  music  of 
that  venerable  evening  editor. 

If  it  should  be  objected  to  this  supposition,  that  Rubeta,  as  an  "  evan- 
gelical Christian,"  and  "professor  of  the  Protestant  faith,"  (see  his  Vi^it 
to  .Montreal,)  would  never  condescend  to  solicit  inspiration  at  the  polluted 
source  of  heathenism,  we  adduce  the  example  of  Socrates.  If  this 
philosopher,  whom  men  will  have  a  practical  if  not  "  evangelical 
Christian,"  could  order  a  cock  to  be  sacrificed  to  ^sculapius,  through 
the  force  of  habit,  or  to  teach  his  disciples  the  prudence  of  an  outward 
deference  to  established  customs,  why  may  not  the  pius  Rubeta,  gov- 
erned by  the  habits  of  early  scholastic  education  and  daily  reference 
to  the  poetical  models  of  antiquity,  have  so  far  forgot  himself,  as  to 
pay  the  homage  of  gratitude,  or  of  filial  piety,  to  an  owl  ?  *  * 

315.  —  perched  in  attic  through  the  livelong  nighf,'\     As  the  worldly 

*  HoM.  //.  xiv.  289.  t  ri>.  vii.  .5S-r,l. 


28  TIIL    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

And  prick'd  them  down,  so  eager,  in  my  Sketches, 
That  overcome  with  joy  I  wet  my  breeches. 
Muse,  aid  mc  now  !   and  when  I  next  play  antic, 
I  '11  howl  till  cats  and  dogs  shall  deem  me  frantic.    320 

'T  was  in  the  month  when  leaves  begin  to  fall ; 
Sick  of  New  York,  I  flew  to  Montreal  : 
There  standing  at  the  monastery-gate, 
To  the  sad  Mother  thus  deplor'd  my  fate  : 
Mother  unwed,  who  sleep'st  secure  from  rape,        325 
Why  should  these  walls  let  recreant  Mary  scape  ? 
Till  then  our  wharves  made  merry  with  my  namCj 
And  prophet  Matthews  shadow'd  Beloe's  fame  : 


circumstances  of  the  hero  are  not  such  as  to  force  him  to  such  eleva- 
tions, it  is  to  be  supposed,  to  his  credit,  that  he  resorted  thither,  as 
to  a  known  temple  of  the  Muses,  to  lift  himself  as  far  as  possible 
above  this  lower  world  and  gather  fancy  from  the  rafters  ;  or  per- 
haps, (as  NuMA,  when  he  descended  to  the  grot  and  valley  of  Egeria,) 
to  meet  the  owl  his  mistress,  or  to  hold  sweet  converse  with  her  through 

the  skylight ;  an  interpretation  which  the  preceding  verses  favor. 

#  # 

32-2.  Sick  ofJVno  York,  I  Jleiv,  etc.]  "  In  the  course  of  a  recent  flying 
excursion  through,  etc."     Visit  to  Montreal :  JV.  Y.  Spectator,  Oct.  8. 

Throughout  the  next  forty  verses  of  the  episode,  the  fable  of  Aristseus 
is  at  times  imitated  from  Georg,  iv.  317  : 

"  Pastor  Aristfeus  fugiens  Peneia  Tempe,  efc." 

327.  —  our  ivharves  made  merry  ivith  my  Jianie,]  His  meaning  is, 
doubtless,  that  the  hawkers  of  newspapers  and  penny  ballads,  (who 
are  known  to  take  their  station  at  the  steamboat-landings,)  found  a 
great  profit  in  bringing  his  evening  jokes  before  the  public.  Thus  in 
Canto  ii,,  the  Lady  Superior,  speaking  of  Rubeta's  return  to  New 
York,  says : 

"  Behold  Manhattan  pouring  forth  her  sons  : 
Her  Wit  returns,  —  her  evening  prince  of  puns ! 


CANTO  FIRST.  29 

All  pedlers  hawk'd  me  ;   little  girls  at  school 
Delighted  spelt  where  knave  was  writ  by  fool.       33o 
Now,  woe  is  me  !  with  Monk  what  dunce  may  cope  ? 
In  foulmouth'd  Scotch  fell  Bruno  dares  the  Pope  ; 
Where  in  his  book  his  swollen  breast  is  seen, 
While  a  green  veil  preserves  the  picture  clean. 
Mother,  I  cannot  live,  and  live  unknown !  335 

Make  me  a  nun,  or  make  thy  case  my  own  : 
Show  me  those  holes  where  nymphs  their  playthings 

keep, 
I  '11  write  such  stuff  shall  put  the  dogs  to  sleep. 
In  her  sick  chamber  heard  the  plaintive  sound 
The  mother-nun.    Her  daughters,  rang'd  around,  340 

Hark  !  the  green  wharves  his  Visit  hawk  for  sale  ; 

The  Visit,  gin  and  oyster  shops  retail : 

Erin  in  Elm-street  toasts  the  darling  boy, 

And  Chatham's  orangewomen  sob  for  joy."     v.  152-157. 

«  # 

328.  And  prophet  Matthews  sliadoiu'd  Beloe's  fame.  ]  Beloe,  the 
author  of  a  book  called  Herodotus,  printed  by  the  Harpers,  and  re- 
viewed by  Rubeta.  As  this  Beloe  was  the  father  of  history,  and  very 
popular  among  scholars  from  the  grateful  peculiarity  of  his  style,  the 
celebrity  of  the  history  of  Matthias,  alias  Matthews,  may  be  gather- 
ed from  the  verse.         *  * 

332,  333.  In  foulmoutK'd  Scotch  fell  Bruno  dares  the  Pope  ;  —  Where  in 
his  book,  etc.]  What  book  this  may  be  we  cannot  even  imagine. 
There  is  a  book  on  Popery,  which  bears  in  the  front  a  clerical  figure 
with  chest  protuberant,  while  a  bit  of  green  tissue-paper  throws  a 
grateful  coolness  on  the  subject  and  keeps  the  print  and  title  from 
collapsing.     But  the  author's  name  is  not  Bruno.         *  * 

339.  In  her  sick  chamber  —  77te  mother-nun  —  ]  "  She  was  suffering 
from  an  attack  of  rheumatism." —  Visit,  &c. 

340, 341.  —  her  daughters,  rang'd  around  —  With  ointments  crowned,  etc.] 

—  "  Arranged  in  a  manner  that  would  gladden  the  sight  of  the  N.  Y. 


30  Tin;    VISION   OF   IIUEKTA. 

With  ointments  crown'd  rich  vases,  (pleasing  sight !) 
Deep-blue  the  print  upon  a  fjcld  of  white  : 
NoiRffiiL  and  Gris(eil,  Plainchant  and   Serin, 
Their  fair  necks  modest  muffled  to  the  chin  : 
Chlorosis,  Leucorrhea,  Boiteuse  lame,  345 

Pale  Hydropique,  Carotte  with  locks  of  flame, 
PuTAiN,  and  plump  Pucelle  ;   this  last  a  maid, 
The  other  once  had  blest  a  Bird's  soft  aid ; 
Both  clad  in  black,  a  strap  their  foreheads  bind. 
And  their  long  tails  turn  graceful  up  behind ;  350 

Clystera,  angel  pow'r  in  time  of  need, 
And  Phlebotemna,  taught  to  cup  and  bleed. 
Mid  these  Fretille,  with  dewy  eyes  and  lip, 
Told  how  the  snow-girl  made  St.  Francis  trip. 
What  time,  as  Hudibras,  sweet  poet,  sung,  355 

The  saint  upon  his  staff  a  garland  hung. 


College  of  Pharmacy.  The  jars  and  gallipots  are  all  of  the  ancient 
translucent  dark-blue  and  ivhite  china,  of  the  same  size  and  pattern, 
rendering  the  shelves  perfectly  uniform."  —  Exam,  of  the  Hotel  Dieu : 
JV.  F.  Sped.  Oct.  8. 

348.  —  a  Bird's  soft  aid;]  A  Mrs.  Bird  advertises  in  the  New 
York  papers  as  a  midwife.         *  * 

349,  330.  Both  clad  in  black,  a  strap  their  foreheads  bind,  —  And  their 
long  tails  turn  graceful  up  behind ;  ]  "  The  dress  is  of  black  bombazine, 
with  ample  skirt,  and  bishop  sleeves  ;  the  neck  dress  consists  of  a  large 
square  white  linen  collar,  reaching  up  to  the  chin  ;  to  this  is  attached 
a  strap  passing  across  the  top  of  the  head,  to  which  the  bandeau  is 
fastened.  This  is  a  ivhite  linen  hand  bound  round  the  forehead,  etc. 
The  skirts  are  turned  up,  etc."  —  Rub.  on  "the  costume  of  the  Black 
Nuns."     Visit,  &c. 


CANl'O   FIRST.  31 

Charm'd  with  the  lay,  the  pale  nymphs  urge  their 
toil, 
Flake  the  firm  wax,  and  drop  the  liquid  oil : 
When  hark  I  ajjain  a  faint  and  distant  moan 
Amaz'd  they  hear  :    St.  Francis,  shield  thy  own  !  3go 
(Tiiis  told  Clystera  once,  please  understand. 
While  colic-rack'd  I  bless'd  her  ready  hand.) 

Ver.  36C.  —  St.  Fsaxcis,  shield  thyoion  /]  It  is  by  no  means  to  be  attrib- 
uted to  the  ignorance  or  carelessness  of  Rubeta,  tliat  he  makes  the  nuns 
affirm  themselves  to  be  of  an  order  to  which  they  could  not  belong; 
he  describes  the  scene  precisely  as  it  was  related  to  him,  (as  he  de- 
clares in  the  next  couplet.)  The  terrified  sisters,  having  their  heads  full 
of  St.  Fraxcis  and  his  snow-girl,  just  at  the  moment  they  were  thrown 
into  confusion  by  the  moaning  of  our  hero  at  the  grate,  probably  fancied 
for  the  time  that  they  were  really  under  his  protection,  and  called  upon 
him  instead  of  their  patroness,  or  some  other  saint ;  or  perhaps  they 
were  willing,  in  consideration  of  his  purity,  to  invoke  his  aid  against 
any  danger  which  might  threaten  their  own  ;  a  contingence  which  is 
always  the  first  to  occur  to  the  imagination  of  elderly  maiden  ladies,  on 
the  slightest  alarm  from  any  unknown  cause.  Let  us  observe,  once  for 
all,  Rubeta  never  is  ignorant,  never  makes  mistakes;  he  is  not  more 
the  pius  Mneas  than  he  is  the  nOATMHTIS  0AT22ET2  ;  and  the 
Reader,  before  he  has  done  with  him,  will  cheerfully  add  to  these  dis- 
tinctions the  honor  laid  on  Varro,  "  vir  Romanorum  eruditissimus."  * 

361,  36-2.  TJiis  told  Clystera  once,  phase  understand,  —  While,  etc.] 
This  explanation  the  prince  appears  to  make,  lest  his  friends  or  subjects 
should  suspect  him  of  invention  in  a  detail  of  circumstances  which  he 
could  not  know  from  his  own  observation.  So  the  king  of  Ithaca  to 
his  brother  island-king  and  the  Ph^acians,  in  the  12th  book  of  the 
Odyssey.  It  is  not  improbable,  indeed,  that  our  hero  had  in  mind  the 
precaution  of  his  fellow  sage.  The  fitness  of  the  occasion  which  the 
ministering  sister  took  to  communicate  these  particulars,  like  the  curtain- 

*  Pluiimos  hie,  says  Quinctilian,  (X.  1,)  Pbirimos  hie  libros  et  doclissimos 
composuit,  (Matthias,  Maria  Monk,  etc.,)  pentissimus  linguce  Latince,  (see  Motto  to 
Tales  and  Sketches ;  hear  him  in  his  speeches,  lectures,  etc.,)  and  so  on  with  the  rest 
of  the  sentence,  which  with  but  little  change  may  be  applied  not  less  to  the  most 
LEAKNED  OF  AMERICANS,  than  to  the  most  accomplished  of  the  Romans,        *  * 


32  THE  VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

Then  Boiteuse  first  with  step  uneven  came, 
Gaz'd  on  mj  face,  and  while  I  blush'd  for  shame, 
A  saint!  she  cry'd,  —  despite  his  heathen  clothes.  3C5 
He  weeps  like  Jon ;  just  such  St.  Joseph's  noise : 
Lo,  Judas'  mouth  !  and  chaste  Susanna's  eye  ! 
Now   God   be   prais'd  !     Good   father,   touch   my 
thigh. 

Haste !  lead  him  in  !  I  heard  the  Mother  scream : 
'T  is  he  !  the  ass  foretold  me  in  my  dream.  370 

Quick  at  the  sound  the  portal  opens  wide  ; 
Pour  forth  the  nuns,  and  range  on  either  side. 
Lo,  in  their  midst,  our  saintly  presence  spread  ! 
Mark  the  staid  sisters  smiling  as  we  tread  ! 


conferences  of  Calypso  and  Ulysses,  reflects  great  credit  on  her 
clinical  judgment,  as  nothing  we  should  suppose  could  be  more  salutary, 
or  at  least  more  grateful,  than  keeping  the  head  amused  while  operating 
elsewhere.         *  * 

367.  Lo,  Judas'  mouth  !]  The  simplicity  of  the  poor  nun,  or  the  con- 
fusion of  her  joy,  must  have  made  her  canonize  a  figure  in  the  Lord's 
Supper,  that  was  never  intended  for  such  Catholic  honor.  So,  above, 
she  misuses  heathen  for  profane.         *  * 

367.  —  Susanna.  —  ]  Probably  she  of  that  name  known  as  the  chaste. 
This  famous  woman  being  of  the  file  of  Catholic  saints,  her  picture, 
like  those  of  St.  Job  and  St.  Joseph,  doubtless  adorned  the  convent. 
The  sister's  comparison  shows  us  another  point  wherein  our  hero  is 
decidedly  superior  to  his  archetype :  Dido  found  to  her  sorrow  no 
such  eye  in  tEneas  ;  nor  does  the  Roman  poet  anywhere  character- 
ize him  as  Castus.         *  * 

368.  JVow  God  be  prats'' d!  Good  father,  touch  my  thigh.]  The  sim- 
plicity of  the  poor  recluse  is  quite  aficcting,  when,  judging  from  the 
evangelical  air  of  our  new  ^Eneas,  that  he  could  be  nothing  less  than 
a  saint  from  Heaven,  she  requests  him  to  touch  her  crippled  limb,  with 
full  confidence  he  would  restore  it  whole.        *  * 


CANTO   FIRST.  33 

So  ebb'd  the  flood  when  Moses  stretched  his  rod,  375 
And  Israel  march'd  amid  the  snrge  dryshod. 

Then  clos'd  their  ranks  behind  me,  two  abreast, 
Their  tails  let  down  in  honor  of  their  guest : 
Secure  as  Pisa's  belfry,  on  one  side, 
Sails  BoiTEusE  in  the  van,  delighted  guide :  380 

And  thus  the  black  procession  took  its  way. 
Like  corpse  and  train,  to  where  the  abbess  lay. 
And  as  that  train,  when  reach'd  the  place  of  pray'r, 
Spread  their  long  file,  and  leave  the  coffin  bare, 
Its  tainted  dust  unfit  for  worms  to  eat  385 

Till  some  big  Bruno  sanctifies  the  meat ; 

Ver.  378.  Thdr  tails  let  down  in  honor  of  their  guest :]  "  While  in  the 
nunnery,  I  observed  that  the  skirt  is  always  turned  up,  and  fastened 
under  the  waist  behind  ivith  a  hook  and  eye.  We  saw  them  after- 
ward" (not  the  hook  and  eye,  but  the  nuns)  "going  in  pi-ocessio7i  to  the 
cathedral,  and  then  the  skirts,  I  believe,  wei-e  not  thv^  turned  up, — 
but,"  adds  the  cautious  witness,  with  that  particularity  which  the  im- 
portance of  the  case  demanded,  "  but  am  ivot  quite  CERTAI^^" 
Visit,  ^*c. 

Two  of  the  old  commentators,  Gulielmus  Brunoljssius,  and  the 
venerable  Tardiventus,  remarking  upon  this  and  similar  passages  of 
Rubeta's  illustrious  composition,  very  illnaturedly  observe,  that  the 
historian  must  have  been  born  a  ladies' dressmaker,  or  a  man-milliner  t 

Why  not  a  sage  ?     Sapiens  operis  optimus  omnis  est  opifex  solus  * 

*  * 

3S5.  —  unfit  for  tvorms  to  eat —  Till  some  big  Bruno  sanctifies  the  meat;] 
This  seeming  pleasantry,  when  speaking  of  one  of  the  most  solemn, 
and,  with  those  of  the  Episcopal  faith,  most  beautiful  and  touching  offices 
of  our  religion,  is  not  to  bo  translated  into  forgetfulness  of  character  on 
the  part  of  the  pious  Rubeta,  nor  does  it  argue  his  character  to  be  not 
really  pious.  W^hen,  at  the  conclusion  of  this  story,  the  causes  shall  be 
discovered  which  he  had  to  hold  in  hatred  the  reverend  Bruno,  it  will 

*  HoR.  Sei-fii.  I.  Sat.  iv.  132,  133. 

5 


34  THE    VISION   OF   KUBETA. 

So  wlieePd  the  sisters  to  tlie  left  and  right, 

Thus  set  me  naked  in  the  abbess'  sight : 

But  first  these  orbs,  which  nothing  scapes,  had  seen, 

Turn'd  up  again  those  tails  of  bombazine  !  S'jo 

Then  from  her  couch  the  pensive  mother  rose ; 
A  fine  old  lady,  with  a  Roman  nose. 
A  comely  bird  sat  on  her  dexter  thumb. 
Which,  marvel  new  !  was  nothing  less  than  dumb, 


be  seen,  that  he  speaks  on  this  occasion  from  the  bitterness  of  his 
hostility  to  a  particular  individual,  not  from  levity.  Hence,  the  «  J?)X»r 
rhv  vr^ictiQiinv  c^oTit  ri;  Ut'iv  *  is  nothing  forgotten  by  our  serious  f  poet. 
Besides,  supposing  the  pleasantry  real,  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  the 
hero,  though  pious,  and  chaste,  and  prudent,  and  dignified,  is  not  the  less 
a  man  of  wit ;  and  wit  is  a  sore  tempter.         *  * 

388.  —  set  me  naked  in  the  abbess^  sight ;]  Not  to  be  interpreted 
literally :  for,  supposing  the  sisters  could  have  been  guilty  of  so  un- 
maidenly  decorum  as  to  strip  Rcbeta  to  his  nature,  and  supposing 
that  the  Lady  Superior  were  so  tolerant  of  indelicacy  as  to  look  upon 
a  sight  so  grim,  yet  we  have,  in  the  known  purity  of  the  hero,  "  a  sure 
guarantee"  (as  the  American's  advertisers  say)  of  the  propriety  of  the 
exhibition.  He  would  have  resisted  to  the  utmost  such  an  attempt 
upon  his  delicacy.  —  Doubtless  Rubeta  is  speaking  with  poetic  license  ; 
for,  as  he  had  before  said  that  the  coffin  was  left  bare  to  express  that 
the  company  withdrew  from  its  immediate  neighbourhood,  so  he  might 
with  perfect  propriety  declare,  of  himself,  that  he  was  set  naked  in  the 
sight  of  the  abbess,  when  sexton  Boiteuse  no  longer  hid  his  front, 
and  the  mourners  covered  up  no  more  his  rear.  Seriously,  we  do 
not  believe  that  Rubeta  was  ever  seen  naked  by  any  thing  in  his  life, 
except  one  old  midwife  and  a  nurse. J        *  * 

390.  Turn'd  up  again  those  tails  of  bombazine !  ]  Sec  first  part  of 
the  annotation  on  v.  378.         *  * 

*  Arist.  Poet.  cap.  13,  ed.  Tyrwhilt.     Oxon.  1794.. 

t  '11  ixiv  oiv  I  vo  TO  it  a  Tp  TQayuilsiq,  fii^pi  ftdvov  fiirpov,  fitTa  \6yov  /iifiriaci 
tlvai    O1T0V  6  aitjj  V   ij  Ko\  oi  0  rj  a  ev .     76.  cap.  12. 

I  The  Editor  appears  lo  forget  that  in  the  4ili  Canto  Rubeta  is  said  to  have  had 
two  midwives,  and  two  nurses :  therefore  he  should  have  5aid,  except  two  old  midwives 
and  a  couple  of  nurses.  —  Pubhsiiers. 


CANTO   FIRST.  35 

But  said  his  creed,  and  chanted  aves  high,  395 

Devout  as  thou,  psalni-singing  Hale,  or  I. 
This  to  Chlorosis'  wrist  she  now  transferr'd : 
Go,  Father  Richards,  go  then,  minion  bird  ! 
Then  stroking  down  his  green  but  rev'rend  head. 
She  kiss'd  his  bill,  and  turn'd  to  me,  and  said  :      400 

Hail,  holy  man !  for  though  no  saint  I  trow, 
As  BoiTEUSE  deems  thee,  (this  thy  breeches  show,) 
Yet  purer  ne'er  rapt  Raphael  drew,  or  Guido, 
Than  thou  I  think —  Said  Father  Richards,  Credo — 
So  meek  those  angel  eyes !  and  if  Hope's  pow'r    405 
Smile  not  to  mock  us  in  this  pregnant  hour, 

Ver.  393,  396.  But  said  his  creed,  and  chanted  aves  high,  —  Devout  as  thou, 
psalm-singing  Hale,  or  i.]  This  is  not  the  first  green  friar  recorded 
in  history,  Par  son  caquet  digne  d'etre  en  couvent :  *  the  great  Ver- 
Vert  precedes  him, 

Qui  "  n'etait  point  de  ces  fiers  perroquets 
Que  I'air  du  siecle  a  rendus  trop  coquets  ; 

*  #         *         #         # 

Ver- Vert  etait  un  perroquet  devot, 
Une  belle  ame  innocemment  guid6e  ; 
Jamais  du  mal  il  n'avait  eu  I'idee, 
Ne  disait  done  un  iramodeste  mot : 
Mais  en  revanche  il  savait  des  cantiques, 
Des  Oremus,  des  coUoques  mystiques  ; 

*  *         *         #         * 
Finalement  Ver- Vert  savait  par  coeur 
Tout  ce  que  sait  une  m^re  de  choeur."  f 

399.  Go,  father  Richards  I  — ]  The  reverend  father  is  mentioned  also  in 

the  prose  Visit  to  Montreal :  "  Father  Richards  is  a  short  fat  person- 
age, has  a  mild  blue  eye,  and  is  exceedingly  fair-spoken."  The  green 
coat,  long  tail,  and  a  deeper  color  of  the  eye,  are  mere  trifles,  which 
doubtless  Rubeta  could  not  attend  to  in  his  "  Visit."         *  * 

-*  Gressf.t.  VV/-- F«)-<,  Chant  I.  t  //».  Chant  II.        *  *" 


36  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Thou  art —  Thou  art  indeed  !     O  blessed  sight ! 
The  long-ear'd  cow  that  low'd  to  rne  last  night. 
Speak !  Who  art  thou  ?    Thou  canst  not  be  profane  ? 
Yet  never  saint  bore  iron-pointed  cane.  4io 

Mother,  (I  said,)  thy  beak  proclaims  thee  grand : 
Mark  then  this  rod  ;  feel ;  touch  it  with  thy  hand. 
Naught  upon  earth  but  has  a  value  given  : 
This  paltry  stick  has  brush'd  Jove's  belt  in  heaven. 

Jesu  !  and  hath  no  hair  ? None,  as  you 

see 415 

Cry'd  father  Richards,  Benedicite! 

Ver.  408.  The  long-ear'd  cow  that  loiu'd  to  me  last  night,]  Strange  igno- 
rance of  nature  and  natural  history  this,  which  metamorphoses  an  ass 
into  a  cow  !  But  what  should  a  poor  secluded  vestal  know  of  beasts 
and  sexes  ?  Perhaps,  however,  it  was  the  confusion  of  her  joy  at  hi^v- 
ing  found,  as  she  thought,  the  explication  of  the  wonderful  dream  she 
afterwards  recounts ;  for  we  see  that  the  excited  Mother  even  forgets 
her  age,  her  rlieumatism,  and  her  dignity,  and  grows  earnest :  "  Speak ! 
Who  art  thou  ?  etc."  And,  indeed,  she  had  already  specified  the  beast 
of  the  vision  as  a  regular  ass : 

"  Haste !  lead  him  in  !  I  heard  the  mother  scream  : 
'T  is  he  !  the  ass  foretold  me  in  my  dream." 

We  may  observe,  to  those  inclined  to  laugh,  that  the  ass  is  a  very 
sacred  animal.  Not  to  mention  Balaam's,  Homer  has  compared  Ajax 
with  one  of  the  kind,  and  Rubeta  compares  himself  presently,  (in  the 
2d  Canto,)  with  the  same  patient  creature ;  while  it  is  noticeable,  that,  as 
the  abbess  seems  to  intend  no  disparagement  to  her  visitor,  by  resem- 
bling him  to  such  an  animal,  so  Rubeta  imagines  none  ;  while  the  hero 
at  once  resents,  as  far  as  his  native  mildness  and  cultivated  gallantry 
will  permit  him,  the  apparent  slight  upon  his  cane,  of  whose  wondrous 
properties  he  has  given  the  world  so  astounding  a  description  in  his 
Visit.        *  * 

413.  Jesu  .'  — ]  One  of  the  ordinary  exclamations  of  a  Catholic  devotee, 
and  quoted  as  such  by  the  hero.     Therefore  he  does  not  here  depart 


CANTO   FIRST.  37 

Yes,  (I  resum'd,)  this  staff  which  shagg'd  with 

broom 
Help'd  Labor's  hand  to  reach  Arachne's  loom, 
A  mighty  witch  swept  on  it  through  the  sky. 
And  touch'd  those  things  which  Locke  could  only 

spy.  420 

When  the  young  Thames  receiv'd  her  in  his  bed, 
My  grandsire  from  its  stall  in  secret  led 
The  wooden  steed, —  't  was  stabled  in  a  shed,  — 
And  bound  him,  with  a  horseshoe,  o'er  the  hatch, 
To  guard  from  evil  power  his  mother's  thatch. 
But  when   my   sire  was   born,    the    times  were 

chang'd ;  425 

Horseshoes  were  iron,  hags  at  pleasure  rang'd  ; 

from  his  character,  though,  like  Mother  Needham,*  he  always  rejects 
such  words  from  his  own  use.         *  * 

420  And  touch'd  those  ihins;s  which  Loose  could  only  spy.]  Sc.  in  the 
moon.  Mr.  Locke  is  the  author  of  that  very  ingenious  and  well- written 
fiction  entitled  "Discoveries  in  the  Moon,  &c. ";  a  story  which  has 
been'more  generally  and  deservedly  popular  than  any  thing  of  the  kind 
in  the  present  century.        *  * 

421  ■ —  Thames  —  ]  A  river  in  New  England  :  Young,  I  suppose,  as 
the  titles  of  Father  and  Old  are  appropriated  to  the  Thames  of  Old 
England. 

We  may  as  well  observe  here,  that  the  account  of  Rubeta's  family- 
broomstick  appears  to  have  been  suggested  by  the  derivation  of  the 
sceptre  of  Agamemnon  in  the  Iliad : 

To  fiiv  "ii(pai(rros  xeif^t  rty^^aiy. 

"H(pa.ifTo;  f/Xv,  K,  T.  X. 

and  so  on.     ii.  101  - 108.         *  * 

*  "A  matron  of  great  fame,"  (in  the  days  of  Pope,)  "and  very  religious  in  her 
way  ;  whose  constant  prayer  it  was,  that  she  might  get  enough  by  her  profession  to 
leave  it  ofT  in  time,  and  make  her  peace  with  God.''  See  the  32  kh  line  of  the  1st  Book 
of  the  Dunciad.        ^  * 


38  THE   VISION   OF   RUBKTA. 

The  steed  no  longer  from  the  lintel  swung, 

But  danc'd  the  loins  whence  afterward  I  sprung. 

Mjself  next  sat  him  ;  with  such  infant  grace, 

Tears  of  delight  bath'd  cither  parent's  face  ;  430 

My  father  strain'd  my  mother  in  his  joy. 

And  sobb'd,  Ah  !  let  our  next  be  like  this  boy  ! 

Such  my  ancestral  staff.     Its  iron  round 
Our  well-pole's  spiral  hook  once  trimly  bound  : 
Then,  wroth  black  Bella  nick'd  thy  belt  of  brick,  435 
Thou,  chill  CiSTERNA,  broke  the  ashen  stick! 

What  present  honor  waits  this  rod  divine 
Yourself  shall  witness,  Mother,  ere  you  dine : 
Behold  RuBETA  !  whose  facetious  name 
Keeps  six-and-twenty  of  the  tongues  of  Fame       440 

Ver.  439.  Behold  Rubeta  /  whose  facetious  name  —  Keeps  six-and- 
twenty,  etc.]  It  has  always  been  permitted  to  great  men  to  blow  their 
own  trumpets  occasionally,  without  any  misapplication  of  wind.  Thus, 
when  Rubeta  couples  his  patrician  name  with  facetiousness,  and  tells 
the  Lady  Superior,  that  his  glory  is  daily  sounded  through  the  26  states 
and  territories  of  the  Union,  he  does  no  more  tiian  the  son  of  Laertes, 
Avho  boasts  that  everybody  knows  ^lis  tricks,  and  tells  Alcinous  that 
his  glory  and  the  stars  are  quite  intimate  : 

EijJt'  'Qiouinv;  A.ai^'ria,o>]s,  o;  rraffi  oiXoifiv 
' A.])6^u-roi(ri  fJtiXu,  xai  fiiu  xXio;  ov^avov  'lx.li  • 

or  than  he  Avhom  the  hero  more  particularly  resembles  : 

Sum  pius  iEneas, 

■        fama  super  sethera  notus :  f 

or  than,  in  fine,  the  most  spirited  of  all  animals,  whose  gallant  Cock-ee- 
doodle-doorc-e !  heard  at  all  hours  by  his  admiring  dames,  were  it 
translated  from  the  Gallic  into  English,  would  read  thus: 

*  Odyss.  ix.  19.    Oxon.  1797.  \  j^n.  i.  378. 


CANTO  FIRST.  39 

Wagging  incessant :  on  each  daily  mail 

The  fowl  rides  cockhorse  and  sings  out  the  tale. 

From  Neptune's  darling  town,  (whose  yet  green 

charms 
Pout  on  his  breast  and  swell  within  his  arms,) 
Dower'd  with  fleets,  array'd  in  current  gold ;  445 

Whose  bricks,  through  fools  and  fires,  wax  never  old  ; 


Lo  Chanticleer  !  whose  throat  all  mortals  know, 
And  heav'n-rais'd  tail  tells  how  the  winds  should  blow : 
while  on  the  other  hand  it  may  be  cited  as  a  trait  of  modesty  to  which 
neither  Ulysses,  nor  tEneas,  nor  Alectryonides,  can  lay  any  claim, 
Rubeta's  appropriating  so  small  a  number  of  the  tongues  of  a  creature 
who  is  known,  by  the  testimony  of  Virgil,  to  have  as  many  as  she  has 
feathers.        *  * 

443,  444.  —  tvliose  yet  green  charms  —  Pout  on  his  breast  and  siveU 
ivithin  his  arms,]  New  York  lies  on  a  broad  and  beautiful  bay,  which 
spreads  two  magnificent,  we  had  almost  said  unrivalled,  rivers,  one  on 
either  side  of  the  growing  city,  embracing  as  it  were  this  buxom  nymph, 
M'hose  bulk  swells  out  fuller  and  fuller  to  the  margin  of  the  waves  which 
fold  her  in.  —  The  metaphor,  by  the  by,  is  quite  in  character:  the  gal- 
lant RuBETA  is  a  great  admirer  of  what  Pompey  calls  the  fair  sex. 
Thus  he  daintily  compared  the  polar  lights,  [January  14th,  1837,)  to  the 
blushes  on  a  maiden^s  cheeks.  He  and  the  amorist  Bennet,  we  are 
afraid,  will  yet  come  to  fisticuffs  : 

"  Him  should  he  meet,  the  bellowing  war  begins  : 
Their  eyes  flash  fury  ;  to  the  hoUow'd  earth, 
Whence  the  sand  flies,  they  mutter  bloody  deeds, 
And  groaning  deep,  th'  impetuous  battle  mix  : 
While  the  fair  heifer,  balmy-breathing,  near, 
Stands  kindling  up  their  rage."  *         *  * 
446.  —  171  current  gold ;]     A  very  illnatured  reflection  on  the  part  of 
RuBETA,  and  but  little   consistent  with  his   gentle  character.     What 
though  the  toilette  of  Manhattan  is  still  kept  in  her  pocket,  or  glitters 
in  a  circulating  medium,  shall  not  Time  transfer  it  to  her  neck  and 
bosom,  and  set  it  out  to  sparkle  in  her  ears  ?     Thou  art  too  impatient, 
generous  hero  :  when  men  shall  have  lost  the  habit  of  acquiring,  and 

'*  Thomson's  Spri7ig,  800 -'SQo. 


40  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Where  princes,  paper-crown'd,  drive  divers  trades, 
And  lialf  the  women,  Tappan  says,  are  jades, 

shall  have  grown  disgusted  with  the  care  of  hoarding,  when  boys  shall 
be  sent  to  school  to  get  imbued  with  a  love  of  literature  and  science, 
and  not  to  learn  the  pence-table,  you  shall  have  in  modern  Tyre  one  or 
two  domicils  that  would  not  do  discredit  unto  Boston,  and  see  great 
public  edifices  rising  from  your  walks  as  thick  as  mercers'  and  linen- 
drapers'  sliops  are  now.*         *  * 

*  To  be  serious,  there  are  greater  evils  attending-  on  tliis  absorbing  avarice,  wliich 
characterizes  the  exclusively  mercantile  community  of  New  York,  than  merely  a 
neglect  of  good  taste,  whether  in  literature  or  in  architecture.  Every  generous  quality, 
all  that  elevates  the  soul,  is  fast  merging  in  the  bottomless  gulf  of  covetousness.  I 
shall  be  excused,  I  know,  by  at  least  one  class  of  readers,  for  quoting  the  following 
superb  passage  from  a  well-known  teacher  of  excellence,  where,  leaving  his  less  im- 
portant subject,  the  sublime  in  writing,  he  deviates  for  a  moment,  (though  not  widely, 
as  the  two  are  intimately  connected,)  to  correctness  and  elevation  of  moral  sentiment. 
No  overdrawn  picture  does  he  present  of  evils  which  are  rankling  at  this  very  day, 
especially  in  our  social  system ;  and  like  all,  the  little  all,  alas  !  that  we  have  left  of 
that  great  and  philosophic  spirit,  the  instruction  which  it  gives  us  cannot  be  too  often 
or  too  diligently  meditated.     Thus  it  is : 

'H  yiip  (piXo^prjuaria,  npo;  rjv  anavrcg  aTrXi/oruf  tjiij  vooovjicv,  Koi  >/  (piXTjSovia  Sov\a- 
ywyovci,  jxaWov  6e  (wj  uv  c'inoi  tij)  KaTa(iv6ii,ovaiv,  avravipovs  TJirj  roDj  /Ji'ouj "  ^t- 
\apyvpia  fxev  vdarifia  fiiKpo-oibv,  (pi\riSovia  6  '  ayevviaraTov.  (Could  any  thing  be  more 
apposite  to  the  moral  condition  of  our  commercial  metropolis,  even  were  it  written 
but  yesterday,  than  this  vigorous  and  beautiful  sentence  ?  But  to  continue  the  sublime, 
though  for  us,  to  whom,  for  many  reasons,  New  York  is  almost  as  dear  as  though 
we  were  born  there,  melancholy  citation  :)  Oi  Sfi  ?;^;u  Xoyi^dficvoi  svpt7v,  ws  otdv  tc 
it\ovtov  idpiarov  iKTipiaavrai,  rh  5'  a.\riOloTcpov  dircTv  iKOcidaavTai,  ra  (n'fi(pvij  toOtu) 
KOKa  di  rdi  ^v^iii  SifiSiv  iirtiatdvTa  jxfi  napahi)(taOai  '  axoXoufia  yap  t(o  a/iiTptf  nXoi'Tio 
Kai  a/coXoirrw  avvrifxixlvri  Koi  laa,  (paui,  Paivovaa  TTo\vr£Xtia,  Kat  cifia  avoiyovTOi  tKtivou 
tZv  n6\coiv  Kat  o'ikisiv  rds  eladSovi,  d;  us  ifiPaivei,  Kal  avioiKi^cTai  '  ^poviaavTa  ii  ravra  iv 
ToTi  fiiot;,  veoTTozoieiTet,  Kara  rovs  ao(j>ovs,  Koi  ra^iuii  ytvufitva  Tttpi  TCKVoiiouav  *****  a 
yevvijiai  xat  Ti<pov  kui  Tpv(j>r)v,  oh  v6Qa  iavrSv  ytwrifiaTu,  dWa  Kal  -Kavv  yv^aia.  'Eav 
it  Ka\  Toirovi  tij  rov  t:\ovtov  tov;  iKy6vovi  d;  {jXiKiav  i\dc7v  liar],  ra^idJi  Seandras  ral; 
\pv^ais  ivriKTOvaiv  dirapoin/roiij,  vffpiv  Kal  irapavoyitav  Kal  avaiay^ynTtav.  Tavra  yap 
ovTwi  avdyKi]  y'lviaOai,  Kal  ixrjKhi  Toii  avdpiiinovi  ava0Xincn',  fiijii  nipa  (p^/itjs  dval  Tiva 
Xdyov  '  dXXd  Toioiruyv  ev  KVKXifi  TcXtctovpyeiaOat  kut'  dXiyov  tuv  fii<j>v  Trjv  iia(pOopdv, 
ipdlvctv  Si  Kal  KarafiapaiveaQai  rd  \^v)(iKd  /icyiO)],  Kal  a^r/Xa  yivitrdai,  {jviKa  ra  OnTjrd  iavTuiv 
jilprj   KcivdvriTa  iKQavjidC^ouv,  zap(vTcs   av^ctv  t'  dddvara.     Ov  yap  inl  Kpiaet  fiiv  nj  &t- 

a  Though  using  the  edition  of  Bishop  Pearce,  as  the  reader  will  have  observed,  I  have 
not  hesitated  to  omit  the  vicious  interpolation  or  corruption  which  that  excellent  editor 
retained  in  his  text ;  to  wit,  iii^.-Joi.  V»  ti,  which  means  just  nothing  in  the  place  where 
it  occurs,  and  is  in  all  probability  what  Pearce  suspected  it  to  be,  a  mere  glois  by  some 
grammarian.  For  this,  Tollus  indeed  lias  given  us  a  substitute  l.Kx'C-.v^ixv  -n  ;  a  very 
good  conjectural  emendation.     But  tlio  text  \t  sufficiently  complete  without  it.        *  * 


CANTO  FIRST.  41 

(Arthur,  you  know,  —  that  shirt-and-trovvsers  Monk, 
Who  loves  cross-breeding,  but  abhors  a  punk  ;)      450 


Ver.  446.  —  fools  —  ]  Namely,  the  municipal  council.  See,  back, 
V.  25  -  23.        *  * 

447.  mere  princes,  'papcr-crowii'd,  drive  divers  trades.]  The  »Y.  F. 
^^merican  terms  the  merchants  of  Manhattan  merchant-princes !  (See 
one  of  the  numbers  of  that  journal,  somewhere  in  the  first  or  second 
week  of  January,  1837.)  This  misapplication  of  a  title  which  was  prop- 
erly enough  applied  to  tlic  traders  of  a  city  Avhere  they  were  indeed 
princes  by  birth  and  rank,  though  merchants  by  occupation,  is,  we  are 
aware,  merely  the  result  of  ignorance,  —  being,  no  doubt,  the  King's 
English  for  princely  merchants  ;  yet  it  is  not  so  inconsequential  as  one 
might  at  first  suppose,  who  knew  not  to  what  extent  the  citizens  of 
these  Umted  States  are  governed  by  the  editors,  bad,  worse,  and 
worst,  of  their  multitudinous  papers.  To  confine  ourselves  to  New 
York  :  What  right  has  the  name  of  prince  to  be  applied  as  a  commen- 
datory title  of  dignity  to  trading  citizens  ?  It  is  such  indiscreet  coax- 
ing, the  nursery-dialect  of  grown  children  like  Petronius,  which 
pampers  the  pride  already  too  big  for  leadingstrings.  Men  whom  we 
remember  to  have  seen,  thirty  or  five-and-thirty  years  ago,  be  it  more 
or  less,  M'ith  scarcely  a  rag  to  tlieir  back,  now  drive  their  carriages  ; 
much  to  their  honor,  did  they  do  it  modestly ;  but  it  really  makes  the 

KaaOeU  ovk  av  im  tZv  iixaiiiiv  Ka\  koXwv  eXevOcpos  Kai  vyir);  av  Acpir»;j  yivoiTO  '  avdyKri 
yap  T<f  SiapobdKif  ra  ohtia  /ilv  (paivcaOai  Ka\ii  Kul  SiKata.  "Onov  Sc  SifitJiv  cKaaTov  rotjj 
oXovs  ijirj  (jiovs  ScKaa/jtot  PpalSciovai,  Kai  aWoTpiwv  Oijpai  davdruiv,  Kal  cveSpai  liaBi'iKtav, 
TO  &'  Ik  tov  TtavTo;  Kcpiaivctv  wvou/ieda  Trji  if^v^rjs,  tKaaroi  ~pb;  rrjs  (^iXo^ptjuariai 
TlvSpanoSiuixivot,  apa  irj  iv  t-q  Toaairri  Xoi/uiKif  tov  fiiov  Sia(f)dopa  ioKovjicv  'in  i\cv9tp6v 
Tiva  KpiTriv  rdv  ijicya\(i)v,  ij  iiriKivToiv  npaj  rbv  alZva,  KattKaarov  anoXtXtt^dai,  Kai  i^fj 
KaTapj(aipicidi^tadaL  npb(  Ttjs  Tou  nXfOvt/cTt?!/  iTndviiiaf  ;  ^  #  #  *  *  *  "OXojf  xai  ianavov 
c<j>riv  tivai  tUv  vvv  ycvvuinivuiv  (pvaciav  Tr)v  paOvfiiav,  p',  liXfiv  iXiyiav,  TTavTcs  iyKaTafiiov/itV/ 
OVK  dWias  TTOvovvTSi  }/  avaXa/jjJdvovTc;,  el  jxri  tnaivov  Kai  rjSovrjs  cvcKa,  aWd  ixfi  Trj; 
^^Kov  Kai  TifiTJs  a|i'aj  rorf  uxpcXcia;. 

Long,  de  Sublim.  xliv.  :  ex  ed.  Pearcii. 
If  any  person  of  the  class  we  liave  alluded  to  shall  have  derived  from  the  reading 
of  this  long-  quotation,  so  deserving  to  be  writ  in  characters  of  gold,  as  much  melan- 
choly satisfaction  as  we  have  found  in  transcribing  it,  we  are  amply  repaid  for  the 
labor  it  has  cost  us.        *  * 

a  AVe  copy  the  homoly,  and,  as  it  seems  to  us,  somewhat  misplaced,  remark  of  Tor.Lius 
upon  this  clause  ;  for  the  same  reason  for  which  we  Iiave  given  the  entire  passage  from 
LoNGiNcs,  its  sad  applicability  to  the  subject  of  our  note: — "  Proprio  est  largitione,  ab 
lis  qui  magistr.itum  in  comitiis  petunt,  et  pecunia  quidem,  corrumpi  ;  ita  ut  Catones  ra- 
pulsum  ferant,  Vatinii   verd  et  Nonii   Strums  in  sellis  sedesnt  curulibns."        *  * 


A2>  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

From  this  new  Tyre,  which  bounteous  Heaven  has 

blest 
Above  all  good  with  journals,  (mine  the  best,) 

decrepid  genius  of  monarchy  laugh,  to  see  them  ducking  through  re- 
publican streets  in  an  open  jaunty  vehicle,  (apt  representative  of 
their  fortune's  frail  creation  and  existence,)  with  a  negro  on  the  box  in 
tinselled  livery.  Were  this  decoration  worn  that  one  might  tell  the 
man  from  the  master,  it  would  doubtless  be  serving  a  useful  purpose  ; 
but,  alas !  the  heart,  the  heart,  —  there  is  no  republicanism  there !  Those, 
Avho  in  that  goodly  city  have  most  the  cant  of  democracy  on  their  lips, 
would  barter  soul  and  body  to  lord  it  for  an  hour  over  their  poorer 
fellows.     Hence  many,  who  cannot  do  it  there,  live  abroad. 

This  rampant  pride,  moreover,  engenders  a  bitter  spirit  of  envy  in  the 
less  fortunate  members  of  the  same  class  of  society.  I  declare  to  God, 
I  have  been  the  unwilling  hearer  of  more  detraction  and  petty  defama- 
tion, within  these  three  or  four  last  years,  than  I  have  ever  heard  in  all 
the  rest  of  my  life  put  together.  Miserable  worms !  when  to-morrow 
shall  see  you  in  your  coffin,  and  he,  the  humble  friend  you  pass  unre- 
cognised to-day,  may  void  his  spittle  on  your  livid  cheek,  and  not  a 
pulse  throb  at  the  indignity  ! 

448.  —  half  the.  women,  Tapfan  says,  are  jades.]  See  the  impartial 
favors  of  the  notorious  Magdalen  Report  of  Mr.  Arthur  Tappan,  who, 
it  seems,  is  no  friend  to  monopoly  in  bad  reputation.  New  York,  good 
Arthur,  is,  in  one  respect,  as  licentious  as  any  city  in  Christendom ; 
and,  in  the  same  respect,  as  nakedly  so  as  any  in  Great  Britain  :  * 
and  that  is  quite  enough  for  the  present,  witliout  damning  by  anticipa- 
tion the  souls  of  our  wives  and  daughters. 

*  —  as  nakedlij  so  as  any  in  Great  Bjutain:]  It  is  only  LondOiV  or  Liver- 
pool can  present  such  a  scene  as  our  modern  Suburra'>^  does  from  sunset  until  nearly 
after  midnight.  America  and  Great  Britain  may  make  it  their  peculiar  boast, 
that,  in  their  favored  seals  of  freedom,  Impurity  is  permitted  to  hunt  down  her  victims, 
while  elsewhere  the  position  is  reversed.  And  this  is  said  for  what  ?  That  the  police 
may  earn  their  wages.  Little  does  it  matter  indeed  whether  rogues  and  strumpets 
pursue  iheir  nice  vocation  in  the  lighted  promenade  or  in  an  alley  ;  but  it  is  of  very 
much  matter  that  our  sons  and  daughters  sliould  not  witness  it.  Much  of  the  good- 
ness of  one  half  of  the  world  depends  upon  its  being  ignorant  of  the  wickedness  of 
the  other. 

»  Broadway. 

tvltujue  impunc  Subitrra 


PermuiU  sparsisac  oculos  jam  candidus  umbo. 

Pi:rs.  v.  32.  cd.  Casauu.  Land.  Iti47. 


CANTO  FIRST  43 

Rapt  on  the  wings  of  steam,  for  promis'd  fame 
A  new  goldfindcr  in  your  sinks  of  shame, 
I  come  !     Prepare.     Dead  babe  hope  not  to  hide,   455 
Nor  friar's  sandal,  where  this  wand  is  guide  ! 
Aided  by  which,  shall  pierce  your  very  stones 
My  eagle  eyes,  and  find  those  little  bones ! 

Ver.  450.  Jflio  loves  cross-breeding  —  ]  Arthur,  though  he  advocates 
association  of  the  whites  and  the  blacks  on  equal  terms  of  fellowship, 
denies  that  he  is  for  direct  amalgamation  by  marriage.  It  is  of  no 
consequence,  Arthur;  the  latter  would  be  sure  to  follow,  could  the 
former  ever  take  place ;  as,  to  be  serious,  Heaven  never  meant  it  should. 
There  seems  to  be  a  prohibition  set  by  nature  on  the  mixture  of  the 
two  races  :  for,  whether  it  be  that,  with  the  present  notions  of  society, 
none  but  the  debauched  or  degraded  of  either  sex  among  the  whites 
will  cohabit  with  the  opposite  color,  it  is  very  certain  that  the  offspring 
of  such  a  union  is  usually  marked  by  every  vicious  propensity.  The 
mulatto,  wherever  found,  is  almost  invariably  worthless ;  remarkable 
indeed  for  personal  comeliness,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  as  conspicuous 
for  moral  deformity. 

454.  A  new  goldfinder  —  ]  As  successor  to  Monk,  the  original  con- 
tractor.        *  * 

458.  JV^/  eagle  eyes  —  ] 

"  We  now  reentered  the  convent,  and  ascended  to  the  next  story,  examining  every 
apartment  with  the  most  deliberate  and  eagle-eyed  attention."     Visit,  etc. 

The  second  member  of  the  verse  alludes  to  those  monstrously  ab- 
surd as  well  as  infamous  stories,  which,  it  appears  from  Rubeta's  pub- 
lished visit,  are  told  by  Monk  and  Company, 

"  Infantum, 

Quos  dulcis  vitee  exsortes,  et  ab  ubere  raptos, 
Abstulit  atra  dies  et  funere  mersit  acerbo  :  "  * 
the  truth  of  which  the  luminous  Rubeta  thought  it  Avorth  while  to  in- 
vestigate ;  though  the  book,  it  was  very  evident,  could  be  only  such  as 
a  salacious  imagination  would  put  together,  or  a  licentious  curiosity 
would  read.  Although  the  filthy  publication,  which  Rubeta  and  his 
reverend  coadjutors  at  Montreal  amused  themselves  with  reading  at 
breakfast,  (see   Visit,  Sic.,)  we  have  indeed   not  seen,  having  a  suf- 

*  ViRG.  ^n.  vi.  427.        *» 


44  Tin:  vision  of  rubeta. 

Out  spake  the  abbess  then  :  Thou  canst  not  mean 
To  wreak  such  wrong  !  thou  art  not  so  obscene.  460 
What,  thou  !    so  pure  !    so  soft !    can  Monk's   bad 

page 
Inspire  thy  breast  with  more  than  Tappan's  rage  ? 
Heed  him  not,  daughters  ;  women's  things  he  loves. 
O  sir !   not  eagh^'s  are  those  eyes,  but  dove's. 

Nymph  of  the  cells,  (thus  gravely  we  reply'd,)   4G5 
Measure  not  wholes  by  marking  one  slant  side. 
Is  't  not  our  journal's  patent  ?     Touch  it  not. 
Nor  see  men's  eyes  in  glances  they  have  shot. 
Like  the  loose  sands  on  ocean's  hither  verge, 
Which  shift  their  surface  with  each  beating  surge  ;  470 


ficiently  good  appetite  for  our  morning's  meal  -without  the  stimulus  of 
such  a  viand,  we  can  safely  assure  the  reader  it  is  only  fit  to  be  burned ; 
common  sense,  and  a  knowledge  of  nature,  equally  pronouncing  it  ab- 
surd. The  sexual  vices  of  communities  of  women  living  under  the 
peculiar  restraints  of  conventual  life  arc,  for  very  sufficient  reasons, 
confined  in  all  ages  to  those  which  Diderot  thought  fit  to  make  known, 
in  one  of  his  filthy  novels.  (The  tribades  of  ancient  times,  of  whom 
St.  Paul  speaks  in  his  epistle  to  the  Romans,*  sufficiently  illustrate 
my  meaning.)  They  are  among  the  secret  execrable  indulgences  which 
will  defile  many  in  every  age,  and  which,  as  they  can  never  be  pre- 
vented, it  were  better  never  to  mention.  We  only  add,  that  none  but 
a  man  utterly  regardless  of  the  moral  consequences  of  his  actions,  or, 
what  is  as  bad  in  the  conductor  of  a  public  press,  incapable  of  foreseeing 
them,  would  have  taken  notice  of  such  a  book  in  a  newspaper,  whose 
columns  are  as  often  spelled  over  by  the  young  and  uninstructed,  as  by 
the  imbecile  and  aged.  But  the  gage  of  this  person's  moral  capacity 
will  be  further  seen  in  the  course  of  the  poem. 

*  Aia    TOVTO   irapiiojKCV  avrovi   b    Qtb;  tij   itddij  anjilas  •    aire   yap  6n)^ttai  uvtZv  f<£r- 
>;XXa|ai/  rfiv  cpvaiKfiv  ;\;piio't>'  ch  ^^v  Tapd  <piaiv.  —  Cap.  i.  26.  '  '* 


CANTO  FIRST.  45 

A  host  of  little  shells  now  greet  the  day, 

Which  the  next  billow,  refluent,  bears  away ; 

So,  varying  still,  th'  inconstant  eyes  but  show 

Passion's,  or  simple  feeling's,  ebb  and  flow. 

But  the  hoar  cliffs  which  beetle  o'er  the  deep,         475 

Firm-bas'd  and  huge,  immortal  horror  keep  : 

What  though  their  sides  give  back  the  sun's  broad 

glare, 
The  wear  of  wave,  the  waste  of  time  is  there  ; 
Jagged  and  grim,  they  heave  a  frightful  form, 
Frown  o'er  the  flood,  and  seem  to  dare  the  storm.  480 
Such  be  the  lips :  there  grave  the  passions'  rule 
And  habit  of  the  thoughts  man  knave  or  fool. 
Yes,  mark  these  lines:  here  Pistol's  courage  lies; 
And  Nym's  decision  here,  though  blink  the  eyes. 


Ver.  481,  48-2.  Such  be  the  lips  .•  there  grave  the  passions^  rule  —  ^nd 
habit  of  the  thoughts  man  knave  or  fool.]  Rubeta  says  this  in  pure 
modesty,  as  he  is  speaking  of  the  stone  which  guards  his  own  capacious 
orifice,  and  that  of  men  of  equal  grandeur.  For  ordinary  mortals,  the 
comparison  of  their  lips  to  a  couple  of  wave-eaten  cliffs  would  be  more 
sublime  than  illustrative.         *  * 

By  permission  of  the  Editor,  the  Corrector  would  remark,  that  the 
application  of  the  morality  of  this  figure  is  scarcely  worthy  of  the  hero. 
If  we  were  to  qualify  the  phrase  concerning  the  tyranny  of  the  pas- 
sions by  adding  the  epithet  petty,  or  vulgar,  or  mean,  and  for  habit  of  the 
thoughts  read  the  habit  of  not  thinking,  the  comparison  would  be 
spoiled  indeed,  but  the  likeness  would  be  better.  Let  us  try  our  hand 
at  it: 

So  on  these  lips  the  pettier  passions''  rule, 

And  drivelling  dulness,  stamp  both  knave  and  fool. 


46  THE   VISION    OF   IIUBETA. 

Yet    fear   not,    madam,    therefore :    what    though 

brave  ?  485 

RuBETA  wars  not  to  destroy,  but  save  ; 
(Women  at  least,  —  except  bald  Bruno's  gang  ; 
For  Sense  and  Learning,  let  them  ware  my  fang  !) 
For,  while  they  pay,  I  love  my  fellow-men. 
My  gods  are  glory,  money,  and  the  pen.  490 

Those  drove  me  here,  to  feed  my  purse  and  pride  ; 
And  so  I  write,  I  care  not  on  which  side. 
As  the  same  river  floats  both  ships  and  logs  ; 
As  the  same  physic  purges  men  and  dogs ; 
As  the  same  fly  his  lithe  proboscis  dips  495 

In  ordure  or  in  dew  of  ladies'  lips ; 


Ver.  490.  My  gods  are  glory,  etc.]  In  his  passion  for  glory,  and  the 
perils  he  endured  by  land  and  by  water  to  gratify  it  in  this  particular 
instance,  Rdbeta  is  a  very  Cyrus.  The  passage  of  the  historian  and 
philosopher,  which  marks  in  brief  the  qualities  personal  and  mental  of 
the  son  of  Cambyses,  is  so  perfectly  applicable  to  our  own  greater  hero, 
the  reviver  at  once  and  concentrated  essence  in  his  own  person  of 
ancient  virtue,  that  we  copy  it  for  the  gratification  of  the  readers  of  the 
Vision,  who  will  think  the  honey  of  the  Attic  bee  is  well  bestowed  on 
this  darling  of  tlie  Muses,  this  bud  of  Venus  and  nursling  of  the  Graces.* 

^uvai  Vi  0  K.Zpos  (Rubeta)  XiyiTcci,  xai  a^irai  'in  xai  vvv  iiTo  ruv  fia^Sa^tuv 
(i.  e.  in  hii  jotimals,)  t  T  S  a  j  /ih  xdXXiffros,  -yf^  u  ^  ii  v  Ti  (p  i  X  a  v  ff  ^  a- 
•roTaTOf,  xai  (piXaficcffio'Taros,  tea,]  (piXoTiftBTareSi  cu  <r  t  t 
■r  a  y  r  a  fi  i  v  x  o  v  o  v  a,  v  a.  r  Xri  v  tt  i ,  re  a.  t  T  a  St  x/vSuvflv  ii  «  o  {i.  il- 
V  a.  I,  rev  i  jt  a.  i  v  i7  a  6  a,  i  t  v  i  x  a  .  —  Xen.  Cyrop.  i.  2.,  ed.  Weise  :  12mo. 
Tauchnilius. 

491.  Those  etc.]  Those,  the  former  deities,  ambition  and  avarice, 
urged  me  on  to  this  adventure,  and  "  the  pen,"  the  love  of  scribbling, 
will  put  me  up  to  describing  it ;  and  little  does  it  matter  which  side  I 
take,  for  «  As,  e<c."        *  * 

*  Expressions  of  Aristophanes. 


CANTO   FIRST.  47 

So  when  my  need  requires,  to  gull  the  town, 
Both  truth  and  falsehood  equally  go  down. 
Madam,  the  meaning  of  which  Latin  is, 
Rubeta's  cause  is  yours  and  yours  is  his :  500 

Search  you  he  must ;  this  honor  bids  him  do  ; 
But  whether  he  shall  find  depends  on  you. 


Ver.  497,  498.  So  ivlien  my  need  requires,  to  gull  the  toion,  —  Both  truth 
and  falsehood  equally  go  doivn.]  See,  for  some  examples,  the  note  to 
V.  260,  261,  of  Canto  iii.,  and  the  note  on  v.  715,  of  Canto  iv.  They 
are  all,  however,  mere  Ex  uno  disce  omnes  •'  his  paper,  like  most  others 
in  America,  will  furnish  daily  illustration  of  the  text. 

499.  Madam,  the  meaning  of  which  Latin  is,]  A  verse  of  Dryden's, 
in  the  Tale  of  the  JSTun's  Priest. 

601.  Search  you  he  must  —  ]  "I  remarked  to  them  that  I  presumed, 
from  what  had  been  dropped  at  our  former  visit,  they  were  fully  ap- 
prized of  the  object  of  our  call,  —  being,  if  possible,  to  test  the  truth 
or  falsehood  of  Maria  Monk's  publications  in  New  York.  I  informed 
them,  that  I  should  be  satisfied  with  nothing  short  of  a  minute  exami- 
nation of  any  and  every  part  of  the  institution,  etc.  etc.  ^nd  there 
was  not  an  apartment,  in  either  story,  which  I  did  not  examine  with  the 
closest  scrutiny,  from  foor  to  ceiling,  etc.  etc.  We  visited  the  cells  of 
the  nuns  and  examined  their  furniture  (!!!)  etc."     Visit,  &c. 

If  one  only  reflect  for  a  minute  on  the  above  intelligence,  the  ex- 
quisite impudence  of  a  man's  presuming  to  search  a  religious  house 
of  females,  (or  any  house  whatever,)  not  under  his  control,  and  that 
too  in  as  it  were  a  foreign  country,  will  make  him  stare.  Upon  my 
■word,  I  know  nothing  that  can  equal  in  effrontery,  as  nothing  can 
surpass  in  absurdity,  this  chivalrous  expedition  of  Rubeta,  —  except 
it  should  be  himself.  The  women  should  have  crammed  the  fool  into 
one  of  the  "carboys"  he  speaks  of,  and  made  water  on  him. 

This  note  I  am  inclined  to  think  is  spurious,  as  the  Author  would  hardly  have 
rendered  so  illustrious  for  every  virtue  and  endowment  of  mind  a  creature  he  de- 
spised. It  was  probably  written  by  some  person  to  whom  he  had  lent  the  poem 
previously  to  putting  it  into  our  possession.  Of  Rubeta's  right  to  search  the  con^ 
vent,  and  examine  the  nuns'  chambers,  I  think  there  can  be  but  one  opinion.  The 
voice  of  religious  duty,  of  philanthropy,  and  of  honor,  urged  the  hero  on,  and  Both' 
ing  called  him  back,  but  common  sense  and  common  decency.        *  * 


48  THE    VISIOiN   OF   RUBETA. 


For  though  my  heart  persuades  me  Monk  is  sound, 

^ivc  the 
drown'd  ! 


I  'd  give  the  world   tlie   wretch  were  sack'd  and 


Ver.  503.  —  my  heart  persuades  me  Monk  is  sound,]  "I  am  con- 
strained in  candor  to  confess,"  (says  Rubeta  in  his  Visit,)  "  tliat,  al- 
though at  times  a  partial  believer,  and  at  others  a  skeptic  as  to  the 
truth  of  her  fearful  revelations  of  hypocrisy,  lust,  and  blood,  I  was 
rather  a  believer  than  otherwise  during  the  earlier  part  of  my  Canadian 
visit."  —  Tlie  meaning  of  the  opposition  between  although  at  times  a 
partial  believer,  and  /  ivas  rather  a  believer  than  otherwise,  is  not  very 
obvious;  yet  the  natural  conclusion  would  be,  that  Rubeta  was  a 
thorough  believer  by  the  time  he  got  to  Montreal,  only  we  find,  by 
the  text,  that  he  explains  it  himself  into  a  persuasion  of  his  hearty 
doubtless  against  his  reason.  And  here  there  have  not  been  wanting 
commentators  to  assert,  that  it  was  the  foulness  of  his  own  heart  M-hich 
induced  the  otherwise  clear-seeing  Ruby  to  believe  these  fearful  reve- 
lations :  but  they  evidently  err  in  malice  ;  for,  though  we  are  indeed 
told  that  the  imagination  of  man's  heart  is  always  evil,  [Figmentuvi 
cogitationum,  cordis  hominis  tantummodo  malum  est  omni  tempore,*) 
what  but  an  innocent,  unspotted  soul  could  believe  in  such  monstrous 
guilt  without  the  most  direct  and  undeniable  evidence  ?  Understand  it 
therefore,  For  though  the  simplicity  of  my  own  honest  heart  ivould  lead 
me  to  believe  that  Monk  told  the  truth,  etc. 

"  Tarn  ssepe  nostrum  decipi  Fabullum,  quid 

Miraris,  Aule  ?  semper  bonus  homo  tiro  est."  f         *  * 

504.  /  \l  give  the  world  the  wretch  were  sacked  and  droivn^d !  ] 
Spietata  ./Imhizione!  Bowelless  Ambition!  Even  the  gentle  Rubeta 
forgets  his  nature,  and  grows  tiger-toothed  at  thy  infernal  instigation. 

"  Comprendi 
Che  I'uomo  ambizioso  ^  uom  crudele. 
Tra  le  sue  mire  di  grandezza  e  lui 
Metti  il  capo  del  padre  e  del  fratello  ; 
Calcher^  1'  uno  e  1'  altro,  e  fara  d'  ambo 
Sgabello  ai  piedi  per  salir  sublime."  J 

Even  so  says  Aristodemus.  And  if  a  king,  thus  prompted,  can  make  a 
footstool  of  his  father's  head,  what  wonder  that  Rubeta,  greater  than  a 
king,  a  sage,  should  wish  to  see  Maria  bagged  and  sinking.         *  * 

*  Gen.  vi.  5.  t  Mart.  Kp.  xii.  51.  J  Monti  :  Arislod.  At.  1",  ;Sc.  4''. 


CANTO   FIRST.  49 

For,  Mother,  —  oh  !  —  I  choke  for  very  spite,  —  505 

My  child  is  dead,  since  Mary's  saw  the  light ! 

My  lov'd  Matthias/  he,  my  last !  my  best ! 

So  Aaron's  serpent  swallovv'd  up  the  rest. 

Therefore  this  staff  shall  rake  your  Cato's  den, 

T'  outramp  lewd  Monk,  and  saliant  make  our  pen.  5io 

For  as  the  beetle,  which  in  roses  dies, 

When  wrapp'd  in  dung  is  known  again  to  rise, 

Ver.  505-507.  For,  Mother,  —  ok! — /  choke  for  very  spite, — Mi/ 
child  is  dead,  etc.]  This  is  telling  the  truth  to  put  Satan  to  confusion, 
RuVs  ingenuousness  in  pleading  guilty  to  envy  cannot  be  too  much 
admired. 


We  know  not  who  wrote  the  above  note,  which  is  traced  with  a  lead 
pencil,  but  it  is  certainly  made  without  due  reflection.  Emulation  is  not 
envy ;  literary  rivalry  might  agitate  the  breast  of  an  Addison.  Ruh 
writes  a  book  on  religious  imposture :  being  by  a  known  and  distinguish- 
ed hand,  it  reaches  a  second  edition :  up  starts  Monk's,  upon  the  same 
subject,  and,  like  Aaron's  serpent,  as  Rubij  says,  swallows  the  unfortu- 
nate Matthias  whole.     Has  not  then  the  hero  a  reason  to  abhor  Maria  ? 

*  # 

508.  So  Gabon's  serpent,  etc.]  It  appears  to  have  escaped  the  Author 
that  this  entire  verse  belongs  to  Pope  : 

And  hence  one  master-passion  in  the  breast, 
lAke  Aahoh's  serpent  swallows  up  the  rest. 

Essay  on  Man,  ii.         *  * 
609.  —  Cato^s  den.]     Virgil  writes  the  name   Cacus  •  but  that  is  of 
no  consequence  :   Rcbeta  must  have  hia  reasons  for  deviating  from 
received  authority  :  and  besides,  what  is  Virgil  to  Rubeta  ?         *  * 

510.  —  saliant  make  our  pen.]  Saliant :  a  term  in  heraldry  applied  to 
animals  in  a  leaping  posture.  Some  impertinent  grammarian,  comment- 
ing on  the  passage,  has  presumed  to  give  the  word  an  equivocal  mean- 
ing, notwithstanding  the  companion-phrase  ramp  sufficiently  indicates 
its  sense,  and  is  moreover  applied  to  an  animal  said  to  be  of  the  femi- 
nine gender.         *  * 

oil.  For  as  the  beetle,  ichich  in  roses  dies, —  When,  etc.]      "  Quando 
sepelis  scarabaeum  in  rosis,  moritur;  et,  si  sepclis  in  stercore,  vivifica- 
7 


50  THE   VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

So,  though  I  mince,  the  town's  dull  taste  to  please. 
And  piddle  any  way  like  vulgar  Reese  ; 
Yet  nastiness  in  petto  forms  my  joy,  5i5 

Gives  me  new  life,  and  cures  where  dainties  cloy. 


tur." —  Albert.  Mag.  dc  Mirab.  Mun.  [in  eodem  lihtllo  quo  dc  Secreiis, 
etc.)  Liigd.  1582. 

514.  —  vulgar  Reese;]  David  Meredith  Reese,  M.  D.  — This  very 
wise  Doctor  in  Medicine  has  his  fat  little  finger  in  every  dish.  Thus  : 
a  book  is  published  on  Phrenology,  (a  doctrine,  by  the  by,  Dr.  John 
Augustine  Smith,  which,  liowever  inexact  its  superstructure,  is  based 
on  incontestable  truth,)  Dr.  Reese,  without  knowing  any  thing  about  it, 
rumbles  away  at  it,  as  though  all  the  thunder  of  tlie  church  were  con- 
centred in  his  single  belly  to  fright  the  demon  of  this  new  heresy. 
Does  the  Temperance  Cause  want  a  strong  advocate,  out  pops  Dr. 
Reese,  like  Minerva,  ready-armed,     Ecce  signum: 

"  High  Price  of  Provisions.  —  A  public  meeting  for  the  consideration  and  discus- 
sion of  the  above  important  subject  will  be  held  at  the  Tabernacle,  in  Broadway,  on 
Friday  evening  next,  the  20ih  inst.  In  Paris  bread  is  2  cents  a  pound,  in  London  3, — 
in  America,  the  greatest  grain-growing  country  in  the  world,  G.  Why  is  this  ? 
Thousands  of  bushels  of  grain,  etc.  Who  eats  this  food  1  What  has  become  of  it  ? 
The  distilleries  of  this  city  alone  annually  consume  1,200,000  bushels,  and  the  brew- 
eries destroy  many  thousand  bushels  more.     For  this  wanton  and  sinful   perversion  of 

the  bounties  of  Providence,  is  there  no  help  ?  etc.     The  Rev.  Dr. ,  David  M. 

Reese,  Rl.  D.,  and  the  Rev.  Thomas  P. ,  are  engaged  to  address  the  meeting. 

Services  will  commence  at  7  o'clock."     Adv.  in  the  N.  Y.  papers. 

What!  does  the  little  Doctor  think,  because  his  name  is  David,  he 
was  born  to  make  a  Psalter  ? 

614.  And  piddle  any  way  like  vulgar  Reese  ;]  A  book  has  just  appeared, 
[March,  1833,)  the  title  of  which  will  illustrate  very  clearly  this  verse  in 
the  text:  to  wit,  "Humbugs  of  New  York,  being  a  Remonstrance  against 
Popular  Delusion,  whether  in  Science,  Philosopiiy,  or  Religion.  By 
David  Meredith  Reese,  M.  D.  New  York."  Where,  as  the  editor  of 
the  N.  Y.  American  tells  us,  "Animal  Magnetism,  Phrenology,  Homceo- 
pathia,  Ultra  Temperance,  Ultra  Abolitionism,  Ultra  Protestantism,  and 
Ultra  Sectarianism,  are  in  turn  discussed  with  much  ability."  (By  the 
by,  it  is  rare  that  so  good  matter  finds  so  good  a  judge.)  *  * 

515,  516.  Yet  nastiness  iii  petto  forms  my  joy,  —  Gives  me  new  life,  and 
cures  tohere  dainties  cloy.]  See,  for  one  example,  the  N.  Y.  Comm. 
Adv.  of  May  20th,  1835,  where  some  hypocritical  old  woman's  pedantic 
and  puritanically  indecent  gossip,  of  the  outrageous  conduct  of  the  vaga- 


CANTO   FIRST.  61 

Nay  !  weep  not  ladies,  nor  your  entrails  vex  : 
Our  cause  is  one  ;  Rubeta  loves  your  sex  : 
And  as  to  save  you  serves  my  own  great  end, 
Reach    me    your   hands  ;    I    stand   your   convent's 
friend.  520 


bond  boys,  tvho,  every  evening,  perpetrate  unmolested  the  vilest  outrages 
upon  the  persons  of  young  and  defenceless  females,  in  the  streets  of 
Na.vtuckf.t,  is  industriously  copied  from  the  "Inquirer"  of  that  place, 
and  ushered  in  with  appropriate  flourishes  in  equally  pure  English, 
headed,  in  editorial  capitals.  Trouble  in  Nantucket  ;  of  which,  take 
this  specimen : 

"  We  should  as  soon  have  expected,  from  all  previous  information,  to  hear  of  a 
sedate  elephant  playing  off  the  tricks  and  capers  of  a  restless  monkey,  as  of  any 
thing  in  the  shape  of  wickedness  perpetrated  among-  the  sober  Jethros  and  Pelegs 
of  Nantucket,  even  though  it  were  by  the  youngest  proprietors  of  those  euphonious 
appellatives  ;  etc.  What  is  our  friend  the  Editor  about  that  he  tolerates  such  enor- 
mities ?   etc." 

It  is  probable,  that  the  mighty  trouble  was  nothing  but  the  usual 
ribaldry  of  schoolboys,  Avho,  despite  the  poets,  are  everywhere  wanton: 
but,  whether  exaggeration,  or  simple  fact,  a  man  must  love  the  prurience 
of  concupiscence  when  he  takes  the  trouble,  gratuitously,  to  put  before 
us  dirty  anecdotes,  and  chuckles  facetiously  over  them  by  way  of  com- 
mentary : 

"  Because  he  seems  to  chew  the  cud  again, 
When  his  broad  comment  makes  the  text  too  plain  ; 
And  teaches  more  in  one  explaining  page 
Than  all  the  double-meanings  of  the  stage."  * 

However,  see  note  to  v.  714  of  Canto  iv.,  for  an  account  of  other 
specimens  of  purity,  still  more  edifying  to  the  young  idea  than  this,  and 
equally  Avorthy  of  the  nice  gentleman  who  "  devoted,^''  to  use  his  own 
language,  part  of  a  morning,  "to  the  study  of  the  latest  edition"  of 
Monk's  beastly  narrative. 

519.  —  to  save  you  serves  my  own  great  end,]  Sc.  by  enabling  him 
to  incur  the  expense  of  sundry  additional  pairs  of  breeches  for  its  com- 
fort and  protection.  —  Vet.  Schol. 

We  see  no  need  of  giving  this  simple  phrase  such  substantiality  of 

*  Dryden's  Cymon  and  Iphigenia.        *  " 


52  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Give  me  but  ground  to  swear  Maria  lies, 
I  '11  squirt  your  spital  even  to  the  skies. 

As   vi^hen  two    friends    meet   sudden,  far   from 
home, 
In  Haroun's  walks,  or  Peter's  church  at  Rome  : 
They  start,  embrace,  repeat  each  otiier's  name  ;     525 
Eyes,  lips,  and  hands,  one  mutual  joy  proclaim : 
Or  as  when  swan-legg'd  Phyllis,  in  her  path. 
Spies,  Hale,  thy  darling  bristling  up  in  wrath ; 

meaniug.    Understand  by  his  "  great  end,"  money,  or  notoriety,  or  money 
and  notoriety.     In  v.  468,  4G9,  he  has  said  : 

"  My  gods  are  glory,  money,  and  the  pen. 
Those  drove  me  here,  to  feed  my  purse  and  pride."         *  * 

521,  522.  Give  me  hut  ground  to  swear  Mabia  lies,  —  1  HI  squirt  your 
spital  even  to  the  skies.]  So,  or  something  hke  this,  said  Archimedes 
of  his  lever  and  the  world.  It  is  wonderful  how  often  great  men  think 
and  speak  alike  I         *  * 

lb.]  Accordingly,  at  the  tail  of  his  prose  Visit  Rubeta  enters  this 
solemn  declaration  ;  which  we  print  in  the  same  style  as  there  found : 

"  I  will  iherei'ore  now  close  this  protracted  narrative,  b}'  expressing  my  deliberate 
and  solemn  opinion,  founded  not  only  upon  my  own  careful  examination,  but  upon  the 
firmest  convictions  of  nearly  the  entire  population  of  Montreal,  —  embracing  the  body 
of  the  most  intelligent  evangelical  Christians,  that  Maria  Monk  is  an  arrant 

IMPOSTOR,   AND     HER    BOOK,   IN    ALL    ITS    ESSENTIAL     FEATURES,    A    TISSUE    OF 
CALUMNIES."      Etc.  "  RuBETA." 

"  Postscript.  *****  How  melancholy  to  see  grave  theologians  and  intelligent 
laymen,  thus  pinning  themselves  to  the  aprons  of  such  women  !     Rut  enough. 

"Rub."        ** 

824.  In  Haroun's  walks  —  ]  That  is,  in  Bagdad.  The  readers  of  the 
Arabian  JVights  will  not  have  forgotten  the  Caliph  Harodn.         *  * 

628.  —  Hale,  thy  darling  —  ]  Gerard  Hale,  editor  of  the  N.  Y. 
Journal  of  Commerce.  The  canicidal  propensities  of  this  modern  re- 
viver of  the  Cynophontis  are  well  known. 

The  baptismal  name  of  the  dog-ijueller  is  David,  and  not  Gerard;  which  belongs 
to  his  partner.        *  * 


CANTO  FIRST.  53 

Then  sees,  as  on  with  fluttering  heart  she  goes, 
Carlo  down  tail  and  only  smell  her  clothes  :  530 

Or  like  who  treads  some  plashy  road  by  night. 
And  takes  for  mire  veil'd  Cynthia's  partial  light. 
But  setting  down  one  timid  foot  to  try. 
Feels  the  spot  hard,  delighted  finds  it  dry  : 
So  show'd  the  abbess  joy,  surprise,  to  see  535 

Friend,  quiet  cur,  sure  ground,  all  met  in  me. 
Then  clear  and  loud  was  heard  that  lady's  throat, 
And  from  her  rivell'd  lips  these  accents  float : 

O  dear  delight !    O  joy  which  saints  might  share  ! 
I  see  my  ass  !  my  dream  is  Daniell'd  there  I  540 

O  that  it  might  with  hood  and  wimple  suit 
To  give  that  pleasant  mouth  one  chaste  salute ! 
But  Father  Richard's  bill  must  serve  instead. 
Now  hear  what  vision  bless'd  my  virgin  bed. 

Bolt  upright  on  our  spital's  highest  wall  545 

Methought  the  apostate  sat ;  so  hugely  tall. 
Her  shadow  gloom'd  thy  towers,  dun  Montreal  ! 
In  man's  attire  indecent,  straddled  wide. 
Her  long  limbs  spurn  the  ground.     On  th'  outer  side. 
Drawn  by  a  team  of  monstrous  geese,  a  cart,         550 
Fresh  from  the  sinks,  now  play'd  no  vulgar  part. 
Books  were  its  load  ;  and  in  their  midst  a  pole 
Bore  high  a  petticoat  and  friar's  cowl, 
Stitch'd  crosswise ;  where  this  legend  met  the  eyes : 
iifo.vjsr's  Stool  of  Prayer,  or  Spiritual  Spanish  Flies.  555 


54  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

A  man  half  priest,  in  surplice  wrong  side  out, 
Sat  in  the  front  to  rein  the  feather'd  rout. 
From  time  to  time  he  thunder'd  out  these  words  : 
Damn  morals !  flout  old  Babylon,  my  birds ! 
Whereat,  with  clanging  wing,  these  spread  the  bill,  ggo 
And  hiss,  harsh-straining,  silly  discord  shrill. 
Meantime  this  demi-priest,  his  right  arm  free, 
Takes  singly  up  the  books  with  seeming  glee. 
And  reach'd  them,  redolent  of  filth,  to  Monk  : 
Then  much  they  seem'd  to  joy  that  honest  punk:  565 
Ah,  DwiGHT !    she  sigh'd,  and  pitch'd  them,  echoing 

Dwight, 
Down  in  the  yard  :   where  lo  !   a  novel  sight. 
A  swarm  of  foetuses,  of  such  strange  looks 
As  figure  on  the  leaves  of  doctors'  books  ; 
(I  'm  told  they  keep  'em  bottled  too,  on  shelves  !  57o 
I  wonder  if  they  pickle  'em  themselves  ?) 

Ver.  559.  "Dam7i  morals  '.Jlout  old  Babylon,  vuj  birds !  "]  Whatever  the 
mischiefs  of  the  Catholic  faith,  (and  the  compiler  of  Monk's  Disclosures 
cannot  know  them  as  well  as  the  writer  of  this  note,)  they  never  can 
sanction  the  burning  of  convents,*  and  the  aspersing  of  the  reputation 
of  innocent  women  by  indecent  pictures,  which  are  read  universally 
only  for  the  solitary  titillation  of  a  lustful  fancy.  It  must  be  truly 
gratifying  to  the  moral  feelings  of  Mr.  Dwight,  to  have  made  thousands 
of  women  whores  by  stigmatizing  some  score  or  two  as  such. 

*  As  lately,  by  certain  of  the  rabble,  in  this  very  State, 

Ausi  quod  jiceat  tunica  punirc  molesta;* 
that  is,  for  which  tiicy  deserved  the  san-benito ;  yet  an  atrocity  which  really  seemed 
to  give  high  satisfaction  to  certain  persons,  such  as  Rubeta  calls  gentlemen  of  true 
Christian  pictij,  kut  '  i^oxm',  and  professors  of  the  Protestant  faith, 

a  Juv.  Sat.  viii.  235.        ** 


CANTO   FIRST.  55 

We  deem  they  do ;  are  not  quite  sure,  I  said. 

(Jesu  Maria  !  what  a  shocking  trade  !) 
Of  these,  instinct  with  infant  life,  a  swarm 
Crawl'd  from  the  earth,  of  every  size  and  form.     575 
Thick  as  the  fluttering,  tottering,  tailless  brood, 
By  cottage  huswife  cluck'd  to  matin  food, 
When,  standing  at  the  door  with  heap'd-up  pan. 
She  strows  impartial  round  the  moisten'd  bran. 
Or  as  you  see  the  black  ants  busy  run  580 

Tow'rd  some  dead  insect  drying  in  the  sun 
On  your  stone  window-sill :  from  crack  and  seam, 
Beside,  beneath,  the  restless  creatures  stream : 
Gather'd  in  knots  these  seem  to  hold  debate ; 
Those  scour  the  plain,  the  envoys  of  the  state  ;      585 
Ant  jostles  ant ;   till  one  more  apt  to  toil 
'Mid  the  vain  bustle  carries  off  the  spoil. 
So  dense,  confus'd,  encount'ring  without  sound, 
Swarm  the  rude  fry  and  glisten  o'er  the  ground. 

Fast  as  imprison'd  turkeys  gorge  their  food,        590 
The  blind,  long-navell'd,  fungus-headed  brood 


Ver.  672.  We  deem  they  do ;  are  not  quite  sure  —  ]  In  matters  of  impor- 
tance, as  we  have  seen,  (note  to  v.  378,)  Rubeta  always  qualifies  his 
opinion  with  some  such  negative  phrase  :  a  tautological  modesty  em- 
inently graceful  in  a  man  of  his  universal  knowledge,  who  might  well 
be  allowed  not  to  doubt  any  thing.         *  * 

691.  The  blind,  long-naveW d,  fungus-headed  brood]  Blind,  because 
the  eyes  offatus  are  always  represented  as  closed.  The  succeeding 
epithets  appear  to  refer  to  the  appendage  of  the  umbilical  cord,  and 
the  monstrous  size  of  the  head,  which  in  these  subjects  bears  some  such 


56  THE   VISION   OF   RUJ3ETA. 

Lift  in  their  tiny  hands,  nor  seem  to  strain, 
The  printed  excrement  of  Monk's  gross  brain, 
And  pile  it  'gainst  our  wall.     Then  flash'd  the  pyre 
With  sudden  blaze  ;  the  eddying  flames  aspire  ;     595 
Tome  catches  after  tome  and  feeds  the  rav'ning  fire. 

As  when  in  populous  cities,  in  the  streets. 
Some  old  straw-bed  with  funeral  honors  meets. 
The  sudden  flame  gilds  ev'ry  dwelling  nigh. 
And  the  thick  smoke  rolls  crimson  to  the  sky  :        goo 
A  youthful  rabble  gather  round  with  cries. 
Stir  the  red  mass,  and  watch  the  sparks  arise. 
To  distant  passer-by  no  irksome  sight 
The  scene's  bold  shadows  and  its  shifting  light ; 
But  he  who  fronts  it  where  the  night-wind  blows,  go5 
Curses  old  straw,  and,  coughing,  stops  his  nose. 

proportion  to  the  neck  and  body  as  a  mushroom  to  its  stem.  But  the 
curious  in  such  matters  may  consult  the  superb  work  of  Dr.  Hu>'ter  : 
Jlnat.  Uteri  Hum.  Grav.  iabulis  illust.         *  * 

693.  —  Monk's  gross  brain,]  Siiould  be  Dwigbts  pure  brain,  if  Rubeta 
and  report  say  rightly  ;  for  it  would  seem,  that  Maria  merely  furnished 
the  matter,  while  this  theological  gentleman  digested  it.         *  * 

600.  —  crimson  —  ]  The  last  sad  office  to  mattresses  defunct  is 
usually  performed  by  night,  with  a  view  to  the  greater  pomp  and  solem- 
nity of  tlie  ceremony. 

601  -  606.  .*?  youthful  rabble,  etc.  —  But  he  who  fronts  it  ivhere  the  night- 
wind  blows —  Curses  old  straiv,  and,  coughing,  stops  his  nose.]  The  good 
lady  would  seem  to  have  been  in  Manhattan  at  some  period  of  her 
more  worldly  life  ;  for  though  Montreal  may  at  times  witness  such 
funeral-piles,  like  other  cities,  yet  it  is  the  glory  of  New  York  to 
abound  in  them,  from  the  latter  end  of  April  to  the  middle  of  May,  (or 
in  moving-time  as  it  is  locally  and  appropriately  called,)  to  the  manifest 
delight  of  horses  and  of  persons  with  tender  eyes. 
.     At  these  holocausts  of  old  straw,  all  the  little  blackguards  in  the 


CANTO   FIRST.  67 

Pretty  !     (methought,)    as    far    as    the    mere    sight 

goes  ; 
But,  Heav'ii  !    the  rogues  '11  roast  us  in   our  night- 
clothes  ! 
Judge    then    my    fright    when,   sudden   from   the 
ground, 
Two  forms,  in  surcingle  and  cassock  bound,  6io 

One  like  a  dumpling,  delicately  round. 
Shot  into  life,  and  squatting  by  the  pyre, 
Fann'd  with  foul  breath  the  smoke-encircled  fire  ! 
But  chief  the  dumpling-belly'd  parson  blew ; 
Such  blasts,  the  flame  a  mimic  Etna  grew.  615 

Monk  clapp'd  her  haunches  guiltless  of  a  gown, 
And  faster  pour'd  the  hail  of  volumes  down. 

Then  did  it  seem  God's  hallow'd  roof  must  fall, 
And  one  red  ruin  whelm  saints,  salves,  and  all ; 
When  a  harsh  sound,  that  woke   more  mirth  than 

fear,  ego 

Like  ungreas'd  grindstone  grated  on  my  ear, 
And  lo  !  a  creature  of  a  hue  stone-gray, 
Of  mouth  sedate  and  eyes  of  temper'd  ray. 
Came  trotting  up,  with  neck  extended  proud, 
Prick'd  his  long  ears  and  stood  amid  the  crowd,     C25 


street  assemble  shouting,  and  leap  through  the  smoke,  like  the  Roman 
boors  at  the  Palilia.  (And  it  is  an  amusing  coincidence  by  the  by,  that 
the  festival  of  the  goddess  of  shepherds  was  celebrated  about  the  same 
time.)         *  * 

8 


58  Tin;    VISION   Ul'    RUBETA. 

Spread  wide  his  beauteous  jaws,  and  braying  twice, 
Th'  unclouted  bantlings  vanish'd  in  a  trice. 
Not  so  Geneva:  puffing  like  a  toad, 
Fearless  the  swollen  navel  matchless  stood, 
Gather'd  fresh  fuel  and  fed  the  surging  flood.  630 

His  silken  brother  skulk'd  within  his  shade. 
And  boldly  clapp'd  him  when  the  jackass  bray'd. 
So  coward  schoolboys  second  with  delight 
Their  bolder  mates,  and  prompt  the  closing  fight. 
Then  rag'd  the  war :  here  swell  Sir  Dumpling's 

cheeks ;  635 

There    the    brute's  windpipe   whistles,   sobs,   and 

creaks ; 

Ver.  635  -  63S.  Then  rag'd  the  war :  here  swell  Sir  Dumpling's  cheeks;^ 
There  the  brute^s  tvindpipe,  etc.  —  Jit  every  blast  the  girdled  belly  blew, — 
Longer,  etc.]  The  Author  has  here  taken  his  privilege  as  poet  to  make 
the  abbess  foreshow  the  newspaper-contest  which  afterward  arose 
between  Bruno  and  Rubeta.  Anon, 

The  above  remark  is  one  of  the  examples  of  a  misapplication  of  inge- 
nuity so  often  furnislicd  by  commentators.  Though  by  special  provi- 
dence the  abbess  might  well  have  dreamed  of  the  coming  event,  yet 
such  a  particular  dispensation  would  surely  have  been  noticed  by  the 
exact  Rubeta ;  for,  be  it  observed,  it  is  not  the  Poet  who  speaks,  as  the 
above  interpreter  would  have  it,  but  Rubeta,  who  here  recounts  pre- 
cisely what  he  had  heard,  and  it  is  hardly  to  be  imagined  that  the  Poet 
would  interfere  with  a  person  of  Rubeta's  accuracy.  The  dream  is 
simply  a  dream.        *  * 

We  cannot  refrain  from  slily  expressing  our  dissent  at  the  tail  of  this 
decision.  The  Avhole  dream  is  so  perfectly  descriptive  of  events  which 
have  since  taken  place  ;  the  fire  of  Bruno,  and  the  passive  courage  of 
his  bottle-holder  Molcus,  are  so  little  to  be  mistaken  ;  that  no  doubt  can 
remain  of  the  correctness  of  the  anonymous  commentator.  The  Reader 
will  decide.  ^  compositor. 


CANTO   FIKST  59 

At  ev'ry  blast  the  girdled  belly  l)lew, 
Longer  his  ears,  his  bray  diviner  grew. 

But  to  the  outward  wall  the  round  priest  laid 
A  stair  of  Leavitt's  publications  made,  G40 

Clumb  up  the  height,  and  leaping  over  twitches 
His  bottle-holder  with  him  by  the  breeches. 
Monk  saw,  and  toppling  headlong  in  despair, 
Burst  into  two,  and  vanish'd,  God  knows  where  ! 

Still  blaz'd  the  pyre ;  but  now,  our  valiant  ass,   645 
Meek  satisfaction  mantling  o'er  his  face, 
Gaz'd  round  the  field,  gave  one  prodigious  bray. 
And  listen'd  till  its  echoes  dy'd  away. 
Then,  in  a  mode  ill  fits  a  maid  to  name, 
Turn'd  briskly  to  the  wall,  and  quench'd  the  flame.  650 

Ver.  640.  ^  slairof  LEAriTTs  publications  made,']  In  New  York  Messrs. 
Leavitt,  Lord,  &  Co.  are  the  chief  publishers  of  theological  works 
for  the  Presbyterian  church,  as  Messrs.  Swords  &  Co.  for  the  Epis- 
copal.        *  * 

643,  644.  MoNZ  saw,  and  toppling  headlong  in  despair,  —  Burst  into 
two,  and  vanished,  God  knows  where .']  When  the  braying  of  the  Com- 
mercial at  last  overpowered  the  pulmonary  vigor  of  Bruno,  and  the 
backclapping  of  Molcus,  the  house  of  Monk,  formed  by  the  two  Canada 
pigeons,  as  celebrated  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  Canto,  split  into  its 
component  parts,  and  exit.  The  last  that  was  heard  of  the  fair  Maria 
was,  if  we  mistake  not,  of  her  arrest  by  her  bookseller  on  a  plea  of 
debt,  just  as  she  was  going  off  (according  to  the  newspapers)  with  some 
reverend  gentleman,  —  we  believe  with  Bruno's  identical  bottle-holder. 

A.vo.v. 

Conclusion  of  the  Canto.']  Perhaps  it  may  not  be  superfluous  to  re- 
mark, for  some  readers,  that  this  dream  of  the  abbess  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  title  of  the  poem.  The  Vision  of  Rubeta  is  a  very  different 
thing  altogether,  and  its  "  prodigies  august"  are  not  recounted,  it  will 
be  seen,  till  the  final  Canto.  See  the  first  note  in  this  volume,  on  the 
proposition  of  the  poem.         *  * 


CANTO    SECOND 


THE    NUNNERY. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  hero  continues  his  narration.  —  The  refection.  Savory 
and  sage  conversation  which  Rubeta  held  with  the  nuns  there- 
at. The  augury.  The  abbess  is  seized  with  a  fit  of  prophetic 
inspiration.  She  promises  canonization  to  the  hero.  Grand 
march  of  the  exploring  army  of  the  Veils.  Address  of  its 
commander.  Examination  of  the  dormitory.  The  troops  are 
reinforced  by  the  novices,  and  with  this  accession  of  strength 
descend  to  the  vaults.  Awful  trial  of  the  magic  wand.  Re- 
treat and  reascent.  The  room  of  the  spinners.  The  hero 
scales  the  wall.  Disastrous  consequences  of  this  perilous 
exploit,  and  the  precipitous  flight  of  the  sisterhood.  The 
heroic  chief  in  his  lonely  and  distressing  situation  and  con- 
dition finds  solace  in  the  bosom  of  philosophy.  His  prayer  to 
Venus.  Its  success.  He  is  only  lifted  out  of  one  predica- 
ment to  fall  into  another  still  more  painful.  His  shrieks  bring 
back  the  sisterhood.  The  awkwardness  of  Fretille.  Un- 
abated fire  of  the  hero.  His  speech  to  his  forces  :  their  re- 
ply. The  adventure  of  the  jars.  The  exhausted  sisters  would 
return  :  but  their  great  commander  rouses  up  their  courage, 
and  leads  them  to  the  craven.  Arrival  at  the  iron  door,  and 
encounter  with  the  Cyclops.  The  hero,  in  danger  of  annihila- 
tion, is  rescued  by  the  interposition  of  Boiteuse.  The  Cy- 
clops opens  the  iron  door,  and  bares  the  passage  to  the  cave  of 
enchantment.         *  * 


THE 


VISION   OF    RUBETA 


CANTO   SECOND. 

The  Abbess  ceased.     Fir'd  by  the  scene  she  drew, 
To  arms  !  I  crj'd ;   the  work  is  yet  to  do  : 
Delay  breeds  languor ;  courage  !  onward  set ! 

Stay,  said  the  Mother ;  first  your  whistle  wet. 
Valor  has  entrails,  and  the  mettled  soul,  5 

Like  duller  spirit,  lives  by  bread  and  bowl. 
And  hark  !  where  happily  chiming  with  our  need 
Sonnette's  clear  signal  summons  us  to  feed ; 
Roll  me,  my  maidens,  forward  in  my  seat: 
We  quit  our  ease  to  see  Rubeta  eat.  lo 

Ver.  5,  6.  Valor  has  entrails,  and  the  meitled  soul,  —  Like,  etc.]  So 
the  Ithacan  tells  the  fiery  son  of  Peleus  : 

To  ya,^  fiitos  iffrt  ko.)  olXkyi. 

Oil  ya^,  X.  r.  X.  //.  xix.  161. 

KiLLEY,  says  he,  no  man  is  worth  a  tittle, 
Unless  his  belly  's  bolster'd  well  with  victual ; 
But  when  the  paunch  is  lin'd,  with  scant  ado 
He  '11  rout  whole  hosts,  and  cut  their  chiefs  in  two. 

A  remarkable  coincidence :  for  when  Ulysses  talks  thus  sagely  to 
the  grandson  of  ^accs,  this  chief  is  hot  for  action,  and  about  to 
drive  his  rascals  straightway  against  the  troops  of  Hector,  just  as  the 
prince  here,  furious  for  the  fight,  cries  Courage !  to  his  comrades,  and 
wants  to  march  at  once  to  the  field  of  destined  glory.  *  * 


64  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA 

Nay   sir!    jour   greatness   must  not   stoop,  —  yet 

thanks ! 
BoiTEUSE,  lead   on;    Noiu,   Gris(eil,   guard   his 

flanks. 
Now  when  we  came,  a  graceful  gliding  group, 
Where  the  starv'd  sisters  swallow  meagre  soup. 
Two  nymphs  brown  towels  of  British  fabric  bring,    15 
Two  more  shed  water  of  the  sacred  spring, 
Then  spread  the  board,  add  sugarplums  for  me. 
With  the  goat's  milky  store,  and  crown  the  bowls 

with  tea. 
And  Take,  the  Mother  said  ;  we  drink  to  thee, 
Darlin";  of  dames  !   sweet  ass  that  is  to  be  !  20 

And  we  to  you,  by  obloquy  obscene. 
Nymphs  six-and-thirty,  black  in  bombazine. 
Gray  sisters  thirty-four,  though  gone  your  veils, 
Ye  too  we  pledge,  divine  in  turn'd-up  tails  ! 

Ver.  13,  etc.     JVowj  when  ive  came,  etc.] 

Postquam  est  in  thalami  pendentia  pumice  tecta 

Perventum, 

manibus  liquidos,  &c.  &c. 

Georg.  iv.374-386. 
20.  —  siveet  ass  that  is  to  he  !  ]  Not  prophetic,  as  Mad.  Dacier  would 

have  it,  but  simply  in  allusion  to  the  fulfilment  of  the  Mother's  vision. 

#  * 

23,  24.  Gray  sisters  thirty-four,  though  gone  your  veils, —  Ye  too  ive 
pledge,  divine  in  iuni'd-up  tails !  ]  We  may  gather  Rubeta's  meaning 
from  this  passage  in  his  prose  Visit,  where  he  speaks  of  the  black  nuns : 
"  To  the  black  veil  is  attached,  etc.  etc.  The  skirts  are  turned  up  like 
those  of  the  gray  nuns.  The  tout  ensemble  is  dignified,  becoming,  and 
rather  graceful."     As  he  does  not  say  this  of  the  gray  nuns'  tout,  we 


CANTO   SECOND.  66 

Then,  thrice  three  times,  I  fill'd  the  china  high,   25 
Thrice  three  times  rais'd  it  level  with  my  eye. 
One  hand  then  on  my  glowing  pauncii  I  laid. 
Undid  a  waistband-button,  cough'd,  and  said: 

Ladies,  I  might  look  round  me  with  surprise. 
Had  I,  like  BruiNo,  better  ears  than  eyes  ;  so 

For,  saving  Hydropique,  where  shall  we  see 
One  of  your  choir  in  womb  a  match  for  me  ? 
Yet  Roman  Lucrece  solemnly  declares 
Your  house  prolific  as  the  race  of  hares! 

may  presume  this  latter  did  not  please  him  so  much.  Yet  did  they  wear 
their  skirts  turned  up;  wliich  was  a  redeeming  trait.  Therefore,  these 
absent  friends — Though  gone  their  veils,  Them  too  he  jiledg^d — for 
why  ?  divine  their  tails.         *  * 

34.  Your  house  prolific  as  the  race  of  hares !  ]  Lest  it  be  supposed 
that  tlie  Poet's  peculiar  chastity  has  feigned  the  style  of  the  discourse 
which  here  commences,  we  append  the  following  extract  from  Rubeta's 
Visit,  as  published  in  liis  newspaper  for  the  edification  and  amusement 
of  youths  and  misses,  whose  parents  debar  them  from  more  private 
sources  of  wholesome  instruction: 

"  Now,  as  I  have  already  said,  there  are  but  thirty-six  nuns:  more  than  one  half 
are  '  past  age.'  Certainly  not  more  than  fifteen  of  them  could  'in  the  natural  course 
of  human  events  '  become  mothers.  Taking  [Take]  Maria's  statements,  therefore,  as 
correct  data,  and  each  of  those  fifteen  nuns  —  striking  the  average  —  must  give  birth 
to  two  and  a  half  children  every  year !  !  " 

It  will  be  seen  from  this  elaborate  calculation,  and  nice  specimen  of 
Obstetrico-physiological  knowledge,  that  the  Author  in  the  text  has  mere- 
ly acted  the  part  of  an  humble  historian. 

JV*.  B.  Desirous,  at  once  to  benefit  society,  and  to  do  a  service  to 
modest  professional  merit  unworthily  confined  to  small  practice,  we  add 
of  our  own  instigation,  that  if  any  lady,  "  in  the  natural  course  of  human 
events,"  should  stand  in  need  of  a  skilful  and  delicate  person,  we  here, 
on  the  score  of  his  great  theoretical  attainments  above  shown,  most 
strongly  recommend  Rubeta  as  a  safe  hand.  Any  communications 
for  the  doctor  will  be  gladly  received,  and  shall  be  published  in  our  next 
edition  of  the  poem.  *  * 
9 


66  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

As  throng  the  ragged  idlers  of  the  street  35 

Round  barrel-organ  dolorously  sweet, 
And  barefac'd  little  ape  mueh  lov'd  of  hoys, 
So  the  nymphs  gather  round  to  hear  iny  noise  : 
And  PuTAiN  said,  while  sought  her  eyes  the  ground, 
O  father  I  speak  !  is  any  here  too  round  ?  40 

Daughter,  I  said,  that  needs  not.     To  be  bold, 
(With  pardon  hear  it,)  you  are  all  too  old ; 
Save  here  and  there  a  pullet  like  Fretille. 
Yet  novices  nor  pullets  hatch  at  w^ll. 
Have  we  not  read  Albertus,  and  Pin^us  ;  45 

Harvey,  Soranus,  Noortwyk,  and  CosTiEus  ; 


Ver.  39.  —  while  sought  her  eyes  the  ground,]    Not  to  be  attributed  to 

a  sense  of  guilt,  as  Turnebus  supposes,  but  to  her  extreme  modesty. 

*  # 

45-52.  Have  ive  not  read,  etc.]  How  Rubeta  contrived  to  string 
together  these  names,  and  whether  they  occurred  to  him  on  the  occa- 
sion, or  had  been  duly  prepared  for  the  sake  of  effect  on  the  women,  is 
past  our  simple  comprehension.  However,  we  incline  to  the  latter  sup- 
position, as  being  more  consonant  with  the  character  of  the  man ;  for 
we  find  him,  at  the  Bookseller's  Dinner,  reading  extracts  from  some 
translation  of  Cicero,  after  giving  out,  that  he  had  come  there  without 
any  preparation  other  than  the  collection  of  some  statistical  matter, 
though  he  was  heard,  but  a  short  time  before,  quoting  the  identical 
passages  in  one  of  his  lectures  at  Clinton-Hall !  and  the  poor  devil  is  as 
ignorant  of  Latin,  and  of  any  thing  else  beyond  the  forms  of  his 
printing-office,  as  my  double-soled  winter-boots  with  cork  welts. 

We  cannot  believe  that  our  Poet  is  the  author  of  the  above  foolish  and  malicious 
note,  notwithstanding  that  it  comes  to  us  most  legibly  in  ink.  Even  could  there 
be  any  doubts  of  the  vast  erudition  of  Rubeta,  this  were  not  the  place  to  advance 
them  :  for  what  more  amiable,  than  when  his  sole  wish  was  to  console  the  abbess 
and  her  flock  under  the  afflictions  which  Monk's  effrontery  had  heaped  upon  them, 
what  I  say,  more  amiable,  than  to  show  he  understood  their  case  perfectly,  and 
knew  without  examination,  that  they  were  innocent,  simply  from  his  extensive 
reading  in  the  matters  of  which  Monk  had  treated  ?  And  then  we  find  that  it  is  not 


CANTO   SECOND.  67 

BoNETus,  Needham,  Fuchsius,  Fernelius, 
Malpighi,  Aristotle,  Graaf,  Aurelius  ; 


a  mere  parade  of  learned  research,  but  an  actual  list  of  real  authors  who  treat  of 
the  subject  in  hand,  or  of  persons  some  way  connected  with  it,  which  he  gives  us ; 
and  would  this  have  been  necessary  had  his  object  been  merely  to  dazzle  ?  an 
object  as  easily  obtained  by  naming  Nicodemus  as  Roomiusius,  Aldiboron- 
TOPHOscoPHORMO  as  Merian  and  Mauriceau.  —  We  have  been  led  into  this 
long  discussion  from  our  desire  to  justify  this  great  and  good  man.  We  now  pro- 
ceed to  show  to  whom  and  what  this  siring  of  names  belongs. 

Ai.BERTUs  is  the  well-known  Albertus,  surnamed  Magnus,  who  wrote  a  small 
book  De  Secretis  Mulierum ;  and  he  properly  heads  the  list  as  being  wittily  styled 
by  Butler  "secretary"  to  the  ladies.  Pinjeus,  a  French  surgeon,  was  author  of 
the  famous  treatise  De  Notis  Integritatis  et  Corrup.  Virgiiium.  The  third  name  is 
that  of  the  celebrated  author  of  the  doctrine  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood ;  he 
wrote  Exer.  de  Generatione  Anim. ;  qiiibus  ace.  qucedam  de  Partu,  de  31evib.  ac 
Humor.  Uteri,  et  de  Conceptione.  Soranus,  an  Ephesian  physician  who  practised 
at  Rome  in  the  reigns  of  Trajan  and  Adrian,  claims  a  place  for  his  treatise  in 
Greek,  £>e  Utero  et  Pitdend.  Mul.  Noortwtk  wrote  Uteri  Hum.  Grav.  Anat.  et 
Hist.  CosT.s;us,  De  Hum.  Concept.  &lc.  &c.  Bonetus  ;  see  his  Sepulchretum. 
Of  Needham  there  is  some  doubt,  whether  it  be  the  Mother  Needham  commem- 
orized  by  Pope,  or  Walter  Needham  ;  the  former  claiming  the  place  from  practi- 
cal connexion  with  the  subject,  the  latter  from  his  Disquisitio  Anat.  de  Forin.  Feet. 
Fuchsius  ;  Hist.  Stirp.  Fernelius  is  the  great  French  physician  of  that  name, 
whose  Univei-sa  Medicina  is  well  known.  It  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  add  that 
he  is  said  to  have  died  of  grief /or  the  loss  of  his  wife.  Malpighi  ;  Opera  Omn. 
Aristotle;  either  the  Greek,  or,  more  probably,  one  of  the  joint  compilers, 
among  whom  a  certain  Salmon  is  conspicuous,  of  a  popular  treatise,  usually  con- 
sidered a  Masterpiece.  Graaf  ;  Regnier  de  Graaf  wrote  De  Viro?-t/m  Organ. 
&c.  Aurelius  ;  probably  Aurelius  Corn.  Celsus  ;  De  Medecina.  Columbus 
(Realdus) ;  De  Re  Anatom.  Cleopatra  ;  one  of  the  authors  in  the  Harmonia  Gy- 
ncecioi-um.  Her  writings  are  mentioned  by  Galen.  Some  suppose  her  to  have 
been  the  same  Egyptian  who  swallowed  pearl-mixture,  lost  Antony  the  world,  and 
took  poison  of  asps.  Verulamius;  the  Latin  title  of  the  famous  Bacon.  Ruts- 
CHius  (Fred.),  like  Malpighi,  Needham,  De  Graaf,  &:c.  studied  the  nature  of 
generation  in  animals :  Opera  Omn.  Roonhusius  ;  de  Morb.  Mul.  Swammer- 
dammius  ;  Bihlia  Natural ;  et  Mirac.  Nat.  Culpepper  *  (Nick.)  "  gent,  student  in 
physic  and  astronomy,"  a  famous  fellow  in  his  day,  wrote  a  Directoi-y  for  Midwives. 
Merian  {Maria)  :  this  lady,  like  Swammerdam,  attended  to  these  matters  in 
insects.  She  went  to  Surinam  on  purpose  to  watch  the  little  creatures,  and  wrote 
Dissert,  de  Generatione  et  de  Metamorph.  Insect.  Surinamensium.  Astruc  ;  the 
well-known  author  De  Morbis  Venereis  ;  he  also  published  seven  volumes  Des  Mala- 
dies des  Femmes.  Mauriceau;  the  best  writer  on  midwifery  of  his  day  {1C94) ; 
Sur  la  Grossesse,  et  snr  V Accouch.  des  Femmes.     Smellie,  a  well-known  authority 

*  In  other  edd.  IIorstius  ;  the  "  .^Esci'lapius  of  Germany,"  famed  for  the  "  Dissert,  de 
Nat.  Amoris,  add.  ResohU.  de  Cura  Furoris  Amat.,  de  Philtris,  atque  de  Piilsu  Aniantium." 
Others  again  read  Ferrand,  who  wrote  a  book  of  considerable  learning,  and  ratlicr  cnn- 
OUB,  De  la  Maladie  d' Amour.     Either  reading  is  good.        ** 


68  the  vision  of  rubeta. 

Columbus,  Cleopatra,  Verulammius  ; 
ruyschius,  roonhusius,  swammerdammius  ,*         50 
Culpepper,  Merian,  Astruc,  Mauriceau  ? 
And   dream'd   on   Smellie  ?      Sure,    wc    ought   to 

know. 
Out  on  Credulity !   't  would  swallow  whole 
A  rabbit-belly'd  elephant  with  foal ! 
Go  on,  chaste  Monk  ;   cut  never  babe  in  twain  ;     55 
But  propagate  the  darlings  in  thy  brain ! 
So  shalt  thou  blossom  when  Munchausen  fades, 
And  Brunos  shake  their  curls,  to  read  how  maids 
May  be  like  Marg'ret,  Holland's  Countess,  bless'd 
With  near  two  hundred  infants  at  each  breast!       go 

ill  obstetrical  matters.  The  more  ordinary  reading  for  that  in  the  text  is  "  And 
Smellie  folio?''  (another  name  for  the  folio  ed.  of  the  "  Anatom.  Tables"): 
which  leads  us  to  suppose  it  was  the  plates  on  which  Rubeta  dreamed,  and  not 
the  text  of  his  author.         *  * 

Ver.  65.  —  cut  never  babe  in  twain  ;]  Alludes  to  the  division  of  the 
children  after  the  manner  of  Solomon  in  Rubeta's  famous  calculation 
of  generative  power,  cited  in  note  to  v.  35.         *  * 

66.  But  propagate,  etc.]     Allusion  to  the  same.         ** 

63.  ^"(/  Brunos  shake  their  curls  —  ]  Bruno's  picture  represents 
him  with  a  wig  like  that  of  Arethusa  on  an  ancient  Syracusan  coin. 
Rubeta  thus  seizes  his  enemy  by  the  hair  of  his  head,  while  investing 
him  with  one  of  the  attributes  of  Jupiter.         *  * 

69,  60.  —  like  Marg'ret,  Holland's  Countess,  bless''d  —  JFith  near  two 
hundred  infants  at  each  breast .' ]  "But  I  esteem  it,"  says  Mauriceau 
with  much  simplicity,  "  either  a  miracle,  or  a  fable,  what  is  related  in  the 
history  of  the  Lady  Margaret,  Countess  of  Holland,  who  in  the  year 
1313  was  brought  to  bed  of  three  hundred  and  sixty -five  children  at  one 
and  the  same  time ;  which  happened  to  her  (as  they  say)  by  a  poor 
woman's  imprecation,  who,  asking  an  alms,  related  to  her  the  great 
misery  she  was  in  by  reason  of  those  children  she  had  with  her:  to 
which  the  Lady  answered,  she  might  be  content  with  the  inconvenience, 


CANTO   SECOND.  69 

Ah,  like  St.  Cjr's  proud  abbess  of  Marseilles, 
And  all   her  virgins,  grac'd  with  just  jour  tails, 
Ah,  ladies,  had  jou  cut  jour  noses  off. 
No  Monk  might  libel,  and  no  parson  scoff! 

Cut  off!  ...     That   would   be    pajing  for  one's 

whistle !  C5 

The  cancer  first  shall  rot  them,  bone  and  gristle ! 
There  spoke  the  saint !     Nor   think  a  heart  like 

mine 
Could  dream  of  maiming  organs  so  divine  : 
For  what  sajs  Socrates,  that  learned  Roman? 
The  loveliest  nose  is  nose  of  lovely  woman :  70 


since  she  had  had  the  pleasure  of  getting  them."  Chamberlen's 
Translation,  Sth  td.  Lond.  p.  40. 

Not  the  least  amusing  part  of  the  story,  and  which  Mauriceau  does 
not  mention,  is  that  they  were  all  baptized!         *  * 

61  -  63.  Ah,  like  St.  Cyr\s  proud  abbess,  etc.]  It  is  told  of  Eusebia, 
abbess  of  St.  Cyr  at  Marseilles  in  the  eighth  century, that,  in  dread  of 
violence  from  the  Saracens,  she  cut  off  her  nose,  and  was  duly  followed 
(says  the  story)  by  all  her  nuns,  whereupon  the  enraged  barbarians  put 
them  to  death.         *  * 

69 -  7-2.  For  what  says  Socrates,  that  learned  Roman  ?  —  The  loveliest 
nose,  eic]  The  Author  here  in  a  note,  which  it  is  unnecessary  to  insert, 
appears  to  exult  in  the  supposed  ignorance  of  Rubeta  ;  for,  says  he, 
though  the  pretended  citation  may  be  well  supposed  a  pleasant  imposi- 
tion practised  upon  the  simplicity  of  the  recluses,  yet  why  should  he 
speak  of  Socrates  as  a  Rosian  ?  Now  to  us  it  seems,  that,  if  one  part 
of  the  passage  be  a  joke  of  Rubeta's,  so  is  the  other.  But  the  Author 
forgets  that  this  historical  personage,  however  fond  of  humor  on  other 
occasions,  is  always  too  gallant  to  trifle  with  women.  We  explain  the 
passage  thus :  Rubeta  styles  Socrates  a  Roman,  because  of  his  vir- 
tues, which  certainly  were  not  exactly  Grecian,  and  learned  because  of 
his  profundity  in  metaphysics,  —  perhaps  for  his  ingenuity  in  solving 
difficult  questions  in  science,  as  shown  by  Aristophanes.    The  loveliest 


70  THE  VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

And  :  Maim  what  else  you  please,  backbite,  or  scandal, 
But  0 !  for  God's  sake,  leave  her  face  a  handle  ! 
No,  Heav'n  forbid !   the  fair,  I  know  from  books. 
Would  lose  fame,  virtue,  all,  before  good  looks. 
(Pardon  this  praise :  Rubeta's  only  vice,  75 

Save  lying,  is  to  have  an  eye  too  nice.) 

But,  to  return:  suppose  that  all  were  young; 
The  snake  has  hiss'd,  but  is  the  bird  yet  stung  ? 
To  teem  such  numbers,  needs  each  friar  and  nun 
Should  be  like  parent  Adam,  two  in  one  ;  so 

nose  is  evidently  a  translation  of  t»  kuxIv,  at  once  the  object  of  research 
•with  the  ancient  philosophers,  and  the  subject  of  their  discourses ;  for 
which  novel  interpretation  we  maintain  that  Rubeta  has  undoubtedly 
ample  authority,  authority  that  probably  ere  long  will  be  presented  to 
the  learned  world:  (see  the  note  to  v.  118,  on  the  MSS.  of  Vallomhrosa.) 
And  on  the  same  conjectural  grounds  we  maintain  the  integrity  of  the 
quotation  as  an  actual  part  of  the  doctrine  of  the  divine  Socrates. 
Certainly  no  exacter  truth  could  be  pronounced  than  is  done  in  these 
few  words,  none  more  worthy  of  a  sage : 

"  TIte  loveliest  iiose  is  nose  of  loveli/  ivoman: 
And  :  Maim  tvhat  else  you  please,  backbite,  or  scandal, 
But  O !  for  God's  sake,  leave  her  face  a  handle  !  " 

Some  copies  read  Seneca  for  Socrates.        *  * 

75,  76.  Pardon  this  praise:  Rujieta's  onhj  vice,  —  Save  lying,  is  to  have 
an  eye  too  nice.]  The  gallantry  and  grace  with  which  Rubeta  rubs 
down  the  feelings  of  the  nuns,  a  little  chafed  by  what  he  had  said  about 
their  noses,  find  no  parallel  among  the  ancient  epic  heroes.  The  in- 
genuity of  his  compliment  savours  of  the  spirit  of  Lodis  XIV.         ** 

79.  To  teem  such  numbers,  etc.]  The  first  argument  of  consolation 
here  commences :  Even  though  you  were  all  young  enough,  Monk's 
libel  is  innocuous  (v.  78) ;  because  you  could  not  breed  so  fast  unless 
you  were  provided  like  certain  reptiles.        *  * 

80.  —  like  parent  Adam,  tivo  in  one ;  ]  According  to  the  Talmudists, 
the  common  father  of  mankind  was  created  double  ;  before  a  male, 
behind  a  female.     See,  for  this  cabalistical  perversion  of  a  verse  in 


CANTO   SECOND.  71 

Like  Alcibiades  and  Aristides, 
Themistocles,  th'  Androgyni,  Pelides, 

Genesis,  Moses  Maimonides,  in  his  book  on  the  perplexing  and  per- 
plexed passages  of  Scripture.*  But  to  moderate  the  reader's  mirtli  ive 
may  tell  him  that  the  opinion,  however  absurd,  that  man  originally 
united  both  sexes  in  one  person,  has  found  wise  men  to  maintain  it ;  for 
example,  no  less  a  name,  we  think,  than  Plato,  f 

81-84.  Like  Alcibiades  and  AmsTiDEs,  etc.]  "  Rivales  socii  puellula- 
rum."  J  What  Suetonius  says  of  C^sar  need  not  be  repeated  ;  and 
Clodius  is  similarly  distinguished  by  his  friend  Cicero  ;  but  how  the 
son  of  Peleus  comes  to  be  lugged  in  among  this  honorable  company  is 
more  than  I  can  well  explain.  Servius,  commenting  on  those  lines  of 
Virgil  which  describe  the  death  of  Troilus  by  the  spear  of  Achilles, 
gives  what  he  calls  the  true  account,  that  "Troili  amore  Achillem  due- 
turn,  palumbes  ei  quibus  ille  delectabatur  objecisse ;  quas  cum  vellet 
tenere,  captus  ab  Achille,  in  ejus  complexibus  periit:"  but  how  this 

*  Tlie  More  Nevochim.  As  I  do  not  possess  a  copy  of  this  work,  I  cannot  refer 
the  Reader  to  the  precise  passage  in  the  Eagle  of  the  Doctors :  it  can  be  found,  how- 
ever, by  the  curious,  without  difficulty. 

t  The  author  of  the  Nicene  creed,  on  the  contrary,  seems  to  liave  beheved,  that, 
before  the  fall,  Adam,  so  far  from  being  of  both  se.\es,  was  of  neither  one  nor  the 
other:  arguing  somehow  after  this  fashion  :  When  it  was  asked  which  of  the  brothers 
that  had  married  successively  the  same  woman  should  possess  lier  in  the  world  to 
come,  Christ  answered  the  Sadducees,  that  in  Heaven  there  was  neither  marrying 
nor  giving  in  marriage,  but  that  there  we  should  be  like  the  angels,  the  sons  of  God. 
Now,  says  tiie  Bishop,  the  state  of  the  resurrection  is  but  a  restoration  to  the  primi- 
tive integrity  of  Paradise.  Therefore,  the  primitive  condition  of  man  in  Paradise 
was  that  of  the  angels.  But  the  angels  do  not  propagate  their  kind  :  they  have  con- 
sequently no  distinction  of  se.xes  such  as  is  known  to  us.  Therefore  Adam  was  sex- 
less. Vide  Gregorium  Nyss.  Antist.  de  Hominis  Opificio.  Basil.  1567.  Cap.  16, 17. 
prwcipue  ad  pp.  180,  182,  184.  —  The  bishop  of  Nyssa  had  no  difficulty  in  replenish- 
ing the  earth  under  these  circumstances  ;  for  the  number  of  the  angels  is  infinite  with- 
out mcerriage :  'AXXa  nfiv,  Ka6u>i  dfjrjrai,  ya/jioxi  nap'  avroli  oxik  ovtoi,  iv  fivpiaaiv  dircipots 
ai  crrpaTial  twv  dyyiXoiv  daiv  '  oBro)  yap  iv  rals  dnTaaiaii  b  AavitiX  iiijyijaaTO.  Ov<uvv 
Kara  tov  avrbv  rpdirov,  uircp  ftrjiefxia  irapaTpoiTij  tc  Kat  CKaraais  ai:d  rtji  uyyeXtKrjs  hjiori- 
jiia;  f|  dfiapTiai  fiinv  iyhtro,  vvK  Hv  ovbi  rijxtti  tov  yifiov  irpd;  tov  nXtjOvaiibv  iitfjQrjucv. 
(p.  182.)  Which  certainly  is  very  pretty  reasoning.  And  the  quo  modo.  the  tov 
irXtovacnov  t  pan  as,  is  as  nicely  evaded  by  our  philosophic  theologian  and 
moralist  :  'aAA'  barii  icTiv  iv  rg  <pvaci  tCjv  ayyiXiav  tov  i:\tovaafiiOv  TpSiros,  apprjTOS  (liv 
Koi  avtniv6ii)T0i  CTO')(a(7jxo'ti  avdpuinivoi;,  JtXriv  aAAu  ttqvto);  iailv,  oSroj  Hv  Kai  inl  twv 
Ppa^ij  Ti  Trap'  dyy(\ovs  iXarTiDfiivwv  avOpu)iTU)v  ivrjpyrjctv,  c'li  to  iipiufxivov  vtto  r^f  ffovXijs 
TOV  -t-oiiiK6ros  jjiiTpov  to  avOpih-ivov  avl,ij>v.  (Il>.)  For  a  curious  conversation  between 
Raphael  and  Adam  on  the  loves  of  the  angels,  see  Paradise  Lost,  viii.  615.        *  * 

i  Catulli  Cann.  liv.        *  * 


72  THE   VISION    OF   RUBETA. 

Sappho  and  C/esar,  house-snails,  worms,  hjaenas, 

Laufella,  Clodius,  and  their  congeners  ; 

Or,  like  the  aphis,  by  one  impregnation,  85 

Make  mothers  of  their  fourteenth  generation. 

Moreover,  mares  will  gender  with  the  gale ; 

And  maids,  whose  snowy  joints  have  grac'd  the  pail 


should  qualify  the  cruel  captor  to  share  the  cage  of  the  liysenas,  except 
on  justifiable  suspicion,  is  not  very  evident.  Tiie  same  remarks  apply 
to  Themistocles  and  Aristides,  the  cause  of  whose  enmity,  as  as- 
signed by  Ariston,  is  well  known  (see  Plutarch  in  the  lives  of  tliose 
commanders ) ;  likewise  to  the  son  of  Critias.  VVe  can  readily  be- 
lieve, however,  that  the  learned  RuBETA,here  as  elsewhere,  has  sources 
of  information  peculiar  to  himself,  and  have  only  to  add  an  expression 
of  regret  that  our  own  inferior  scholarship  will  not  enable  us  to  gratify 
the  Reader  by  a  peep  at  ins  hidden  treasures.         *  * 

82.  —  Hi'  Androgyni,  —  ]  "Supra  Nasamonas  confinesque  illis  Mach- 
lyas.  Androgynes  esse  utriusque  naturee,  inter  se  vicibus  cofiuntes, 
Calliphanes  tradit.  Aristoteles  adjicit  dextram  mammam  iis  virilem, 
liEvam  muliebrem  esse."     Plin.  Hisl.  JVal.  vii.  'i.  ed.  Berol.  1766. 

83.  — hycEtias,^    "Hysenis  utramque  esse    naturam,   et  alternis  annis, 

mares,  alternis  feminas   fieri,  parere  sine   mare,  vulgus   credit " 

Plin.  Hist.  JVat.  viii.  44.     See  also  Clem.  Alexand.  PcEd.  ii.  10. 

85,  86.  Or,  like  the  aphis,  by  one  impregnation,  —  Make  mothtrs  of  their 
fourteenth  generation.]  Aphides,  Vine-lice,  Blighters,  (called  the  green 
Jltj  in  Paxton's  Magazine  of  Botany,)  are  a  well-known  troublesome 
little  insect,  of  the  order  of  Hemiptera,  possessed  of  extraordinary  fe- 
cundity. According  to  M.  Bonnet,  ( (Euvi-es,  T.  i.  Sur  les  Pucerons,) 
the  impregnation  of  a  single  one  of  this  family  will  fit  its  female  off- 
spring for  reproduction  to  the  tenth  generation,  though  kept  in  a  perfectly 
secluded  state.  Our  philosophic  hero  had  doubtless  carried  the  inter- 
esting experiment  a  little  further.        ** 

87.,  &c.  Moreover,  etc.]  The  second  argument  for  the  nuns'  consola- 
tion: that,  even  if  Monk's  libel  were  not  wholly  false,  yet  their  calamity 
might  be  the  result  of  accident.         *  * 

67.  —  ma)-es  ivill  gender  tvilh  the  gale;]  A  well-known  and  ancient 
fable  of  the  mares  of  Spain,  or  of  that  part  of  it  whicli  comprehended 
the  present  kingdom  of  Portugal,  as  Pliny  tells  it,  who  says:  "Con- 
stat in  Lusitania,  circa  Olysiponera  oppidum  et  Tagum  amnem,  equas 


CANTO   SECOND.  73 

Where  feet  of  men  had  dabbled,  thence  grow  great ; 
Your  own  chaste  selves  in  dreams  might  titubate,    oo 
There  is  no  saying  how  these  things  take  place. 
Yet,  sin  makes  women  mothers :    why  not  grace  ? 
All  men  at  first  are  tadpoles,  doctors  think  : 
Tadpoles  are  found  in  wells :  the  spring  we  drink  : 
Drink  lodges  in  the  ventricle  :  thence,  pray,  95 

May  not  Sir  Tadpole  find  himself  a  way  ? 


Favonio  flante  obversas  animalem  concipere  spiritum,  idque  partum  fieri, 
et  gigni  pernicissimum  ita  (no  doubt) ;  sed  triennium  vitae  non  excedere." 
{HisL  J\at.  viii.  67.     Berol.)        *  * 

88,  89.  And  maids,  etc.]  In  those  days,  when  Credulity  thrived  by 
the  universal  ignorance  in  matters  of  science,  women  profited  by  the 
darkness  to  lay  their  shame  at  the  door  of  Accident :  nor  even  at  the 
present  day  is  the  superstition  altogether  rooted  out ;  and  there  Avhere 
Credulity  makes  her  last  foothold,  as  she  is  driven  backward  step  by  step 
before  the  advance  of  Science,  I  mean  among  the  unenlightened  vulgar, 
the  belief  in  conception  by  acceplion,  so  to  speak,  is  actually  still  ob- 
scurely current,  though  of  course  never  presented  as  a  cover  where  the 
divinity  of  Vemus  Pandemos  finds  few  pretended  infidels.  See  Aver- 
ROES,  or,  which  is  more  convenient,  as  the  works  of  the  Mohammedan 
are  scarce,  the  book  of  Mauriceau  ;  who  relates  from  the  Moor  the 
same  instance  of  feminine  effrontery  profiting  by  popular  ignorance. 

92.  —  ivhy  not  grace  ?]  Rubeta's  piety  is  never  forgotten.  Remark- 
able man !  others  in  your  place,  even  had  they  the  wisdom  to  believe 
such  things,  would  attribute  them  to  chance  ;  it  was  reserved  for  you  to 
unite  true  piety  with  sterling  erudition  !         *  * 

93.  Ml  men  at  first  are  tadpoles,  etc.]  The  third  argument  is  another 
form  of  the  last :  that  conception  might  be  involuntary.  The  tadpole- 
theory  is  that  of  Leuwenhoek;  but  only  the  ingenuity  of  a  Rubeta 
could  draw  from  it  the  important  deductions  which  follow,  deductions 
that  may  change  the  features  of  an  interesting  branch  of  criminal 
jurisprudence,  and  abolish  for  ever  the  use  of  well-water  by  women 
under  fifty.         *  * 

96.  May  not  Sir  Tadpole  find  himself  a  tvay^     Namely,  into   the 
ovum.    See  Smellie's  Midwifery,  p.  115,  Vol.  I.  (2d  ed.  Lond.)        *  * 
10 


74  THE   VISION  OF   RUBETA. 

The  philosophic  eye  sees  all  things  common, 
Though  larks  should  swim,  and  heav'n  rain  frogs  and 

salmon. 
Ah,  happy  they,  the  happiest  of  the  fair. 
Whose  early  youth  is  mark'd  by  hoary  hair!  lOO 

Ver.  98.  —  and  Iieav\i  rain  frogs  and  salmon.]  See  the  newspapers 
for  fish-stories.  There  is  one  comes  appropriate  just  as  we  write, 
extracted  by  the  N.  Y.  American,  of  July  27th,  1837,  from  some  other 
journal,  and  which  thus  concludes  : 

"  Whetlicr  they  ascended  in  [into]  tlie  clouds  in  spawn  and  there  attained  their 
present  size,  or  wliether  they  were  drawn  up  in  that  [this]  perfection,  he"  (the 
"Dr. '"'who  '•' relates  the  astonishing  fact,")  "does  not  decide;  but,  reason- 
ing from  the  fact  that  young  frogs  have  been  known  to  cover  the  ground  after  a 
heavy  rain,  he  thinks  it  not  improbable  that  the  ethereal  world  might  have  rained 
these  fishes." 

Such  nonsense  is  of  no  modern  date  ;  for  Ctesias  tells  of  a  fountain 
in  India  which  threw  up  so  many  fishes,  that  the  neighbouring  people, 
unable  to  gather  them  all,  were  forced  to  let  them  stink  upon  the  sand. 

'Ev  T>)  Xiyofjiivii  ^Iirdopioec  Iitt;  x/»?v>;,  cvk  iXiyov  oi'.rTnxv'a.  tSj  S^akdrrriSf  xcci 
'Ttoiil  ufftuTiv  oia  fiiffns  vvxros  -Travv  tr^oopav,  x.ui  u-ToppixTii  i^Cvu;  troXXeuf  iv  rn 
vip^u),  uffrt  ftri  'huvajSai  o!  iiciiffl  cixovvti;  iruXXiyiiv  auTov;,  «A.A.'  lav  ra  TXiTe-rcc 
xa'i   o^£/»   IsrJ   Tjjj   ^tioaS'       Cup.  XXXii. 

09  -  108.  M,  happy  they,  etc.]  This  story  of  the  sixteen-fingered  race 
gives  occasion  to  much  malevolent  criticism  among  the  commentators. 
One  profanely  asks :  Where  the  devil  did  Ruby  stumble  over  this  absurdi- 
ty ?  To  which  another  pertly  answers:  "  O  someivhere  in  the  kingdom 
of  BoMiiAr."  Tiion,  saj's  a  third,  with  much  gravity  of  assurance : 
The  author  puts  all  this  antique  lore  and  decrepid  stuff  into  the  mouth 
of  Ri/BETA  ill  order  to  make  a  fool  of  him,  and  ridicule  his  pretensions 
to  knoiuledge:  which  calls  forth  an  impudently  tart  addition  from  a 
fourth  :  That  Ruseta  makes  quite  enough  of  a  fool  of  himself  loithout 
assistance.  Now,  passing  over  the  pertness  of  No.  2,  because  the  line 
in  the  text  about  the  kingdom  of  Bombay  may  be  an  error  [Bombay  for 
Cathay)  of  the  reporter  that  took  down  the  hero's  story,  or  a  gentle 
pleasantry  of  Rubeta's  to  save  a  long  explanation  to  the  nuns,  we  add 
that  all  these  persons  must  be  ignorant  themselves  of  the  greatest  work 
of  imagination  of  modern  times:  for  in  the  very  title-page  of  his  "Tales 
and  Sketches,  —  Such  as  they  .4/-e,"  does  not  tlie  great  Rubeta  give  us, 
for  his  epigraph,  this  expression,  Scribinius  indocti  doctique  ?     Now  let 


CANTO   SECOND.  75 

What  though  their  ears  hang  midway  down  their  arm, 
And  meeting  backward,  keep  both  shoulders  warm  ? 
Yet  are  ye  bless'd,  ye  sixteen-finger'd  wives ! 
Who  never  pup  but  once  in  all  your  lives ! 

Angelic  lot!   And  where  their  Eden  ?  say  !  i05 

O  somewhere  in  the  kingdom  of  Bombay  ; 
Where  painless  all  their  paradisiac  doom, 
They  cut  their  eyeteeth  even  in  the  womb. — 
Last  thought  of  all,  which  prove  ye  undefil'd. 
Can  woman's  breasts  forget  her  sucking  child?      no 

us  ask,  whom  does  he  mean  by  docti  but  himself?  is  not  the  word  in 
the  second  place,  which  the  modesty  of  grammar  assigns  it  ?  not  to  say 
that  no  man  would  call  himself  indodus.  "  Scribimus  iadocti  doc- 
tique  :  " 

Be  common  sense  your  part,  unletter''d  ivrelches  .' 
^T  is  ours,  the  learned,  to  scribble  Tales  and  Sketches. 
However,  for  the  "  absurdity,"  it  is  an  exact  version  of  a  fable  of 
Ctesias's,  vouched  for  as  fact  by  that  veritable  historian;  and  which 
thus  follows : 

E;V/»  Iv  TcT;  ootiri  to7;  'Iv^ixoTi,  oTov  o  KoiXtifeo;  auTav  (pvirxi,  avd^w^oi,  to 
^Xri6o;  avruy  cL^^^pt  xai  roiuv  fiVo'iaSav,  Tovruv  ai  yvfcciKls  e^a^  nxTouriy  tv  ru 
fi'iu  •  KOI  Tct  TiKTOfiiva  oiivTas  (^11  xai  to,  litu  Koi  m  Kurca  -Kaw  xccXous  '  xui  rect 
rpi^as,  rrai  ri  tv  r?  x£ipa>55  xai  tcu;  i(p^uiTi,  'ToXia;  ix^'  "■«!"'■«  £«  yifi^ri;,  xai 
TO,  B-!^>.ia  xai  TO,  a'fpivx,  '^li^^i  fitv  oiv  r^iaKovra,  iruv  Xivxas  i^i'  'ixaaTo;  tuv 
kiS^uifut  ixiivuv  rk;  rgix"!  S/  eXcu  tou  trufiaTo;  '  a^X"^''"  "  Ixuhv  fiiXceivKr^ai  ' 
i^nxoyrx  S{  iTuv  ysyof^ivuv,  (crrtv  i^iiv  aurois  irecras  £;|^i9VTa;  ftiXuiva.;.  "Ex'tx^i 
St  oStoi  01  ccv^^iwrii  aik  ixru  ^anTuXoui  Ip'  ixarietf,  x'-'?'f  biaauTu;  ava,  oxtu  xat 
iTi    THIS    vco'i,     »ai     uvdot;     xai    yuvxixi;    affawrcos.  la   oi   wra,   (frjai 

rnXixauTa  'ix^'^t  urn  tov;  (ioaxioas  auTov  v'X  aurov  xaXwna-^ai  fHX^'  '^'^^ 
ayxeivaiy,  xai  o-Trialiv  Triv  yurov  ciTav-a  auyxaXwTiiy  '  to  o\  ov;  to  iriooy  tou 
irijow  Siyyayii. 

Ex  Ctesi.e  Indicis  excerp.  ab  Photio  hist.  Cap.  xxxi :  ad  Jintm  ed. 
Herodoti  H.  Steph.  Franc.  1608.         *  * 

109-  112.  Last  thought  of  all,  ivhich  prove  ye  undejifd,  —  Can  woman^s 
breasts,  etc]     "Can  a  woman   forget  her  sucking  child?     It  is  not  so ! 


76  THE    VISION   OF   RUliETA. 

Hark !   't  is  the  voice  ot"  Nature  sternly  cries  : 
Rub,  thou  art  right;  that  beast  Maria  lies! 

But,  what  to  us,  if  jc  have  sinii'd  or  not? 
Are  we  like  him  the  great  Sea-Ostrich  got, 
Who  made  ten  thousand  women  mount  the  skies  ii5 
In  smoke,  because  they  could  not  cure  his  eyes  ? 

The  voice  of  indignant  nature  rises  up  to  proclaim  the  falsehood ! " 
Visit  to  Montreal,  &c. 

Though  it  is  true,  that  if  they  strangled  their  babes,  according  to 
Monk  as  reported  by  Rubeta,  the  nuns  could  have  no  sucking  children 
to  forget,  yet  is  this  one  of  the  most  elegant  passages  of  prose  we 
ever  remember  to  have  read,  even  of  that  great  man's  composition. 
Certainly,  with  the  exception  of  the  single  expression  Bus,  thou  art 
right,  which  admirably  conveys  in  its  familiar  apocope  the  affection 
which  Nature  has  for  her  favorite,  the  poetical  version  can  in  nothing 
compare  with  it.  What  graceful  energy  in  that  It  is  not  so!  Then 
the  image  of  the  voice  of  Nature  rising  up!  and  then  the  tenderness  of 
this :  Can  a  looman  forget  her  sucking  child  ? 

"  Comment  diable  !  vraiment 
C'est  parler  comme  un  ange."  *         *  * 

114.  —  the  great  Sea-Ostrich  —  ]  As  we  cannot  believe  that  Rubeta 
meant  to  trifle  with  the  ignorance  of  the  poor  recluses,  we  are  inclined 
to  consider  this  a  mistake  of  the  reporter's  for  great  Sesoslris.  The 
Author  leaves  it  uncorrected,  evidently  from  a  belief  that  Rubeta 
having  heard  the  story  somewhere,  and  imperfectly  remembered  it, 
made  the  very  mistake,  from  ignorance  and  dulness,  that  we  attribute 
to  the  reporter!  Our  note  to  v.  118,  will  satisfy  the  reader  on  this  and 
all  similar  points  in  the  poem.         *  * 

115,116.  Who  made  ten  thousand  ivomen  mount  the  skies — In  smoke, 
because  they  could  not  cure  his  eyes'?]  Pheron,  son  of  Sesostris, 
having  lost  his  sight  for  insulting  the  river  Nile,  was  told  by  an  oracle 
to  wash  the  impaired  organs  with  a  liquid,  which  could  only  be  made 

by  a  single-minded   woman :    (ywaiKoi  ov^u nrK  ira^a  rov  lailrm 

ecvS^a  fiovvov  TKpoirtiKi,  aXXu*  atit^uv  Icucra.  oixti^o;.)  Accordingly  the  prince 
set  his  wife  to  work  ;  but  to  no  purpose  :  and  it  was  only  after  trying  a 
number  of  ladies,  (whom  the  learned  Rubeta  here  sets  down  as  ten 

*  Vadk  :  Le  Trompeiir  Trompi ;  Sc.  vii, 


CANTO   SECOND. 


Though  to  Mylitta  all  your  vows  were  paid  ; 
Though  Pompey's  gods  defil'd  your  garden's  shade  ; 


thousand,)  that  one  was  found  who  made  the  right  sort  of  water. 
Wliereupon,  like  a  great  beast  as  lie  was,  Piiero.n  penned  all  the  un- 
fortunate chemists  together  in  a  town,  and  setting  fire  to  it,  burned  tlicm 
up ;  while  the  happy  oculist  he  took  to  wife,  and  ordered  her  to  com- 
pound the  liquor  fresh  for  him  every  day  in  anticipation  of  a  recurrence 
of  the  accident. 

All  this,  is  it  not  told  by  Herodotus  in  the  111th  chapter  of  his  book 
which  is  called  Euterpe  ?        ** 

117.  Though  to  Mylitta  all  your  voivs  were  paid;]  That  is,  though 
you  were  perfect  Babylonians.  Mylitta  was  the  Assyrian  Vends  : 
MuXtrrei  Tt  Kaxioiirt  rh*  'A^foSiTnv  'Afirv^ioi'  says  Herodotus,  f.  i.  199. — 
In  order  to  understand  the  full  force  of  the  elegant  Nun-Consoler's  sup- 
position, see  what  the  historian  says  in  the  same  chapter  with  regard  to 
the  temple  of  Venus,  and  to  a  law  of  the  Babylonians  which  he  calls 

118.  — PoMFET —  ]  Probably  Pompeii  is  meant:  for  what  were  Pom- 
pey's particular  gods  that  they  should  be  referred  to  here,  is  not  very 
evident,  while  it  is  well  known  that  the  god  of  gardens  was  a  favorite 
deity  with  the  buried  city  and  its  subterrene  neighbour.  —  This  is  another 
of  the  many  occasions  where  the  Comforter  of  Virgins  is  found  to  differ 
from  common  and  received  authority.  Perhaps  no  better  opportunity 
can  offer  for  us  to  support  our  confident  opinion  of  his  accuracy  by 
adducing  one  direct  proof,  in  addition  to  the  triumphant  evidence,  of  a 
circumstantial  nature,  which  has  been  either  advanced  by  ourselves,  or 
is  to  be  found  scattered  delightfully  through  the  pages  of  this  magnifi- 
cent poem.  Before,  however,  coming  to  this  proof,  it  is  necessary  to 
premise  the  following  passage  from  Rubeta's  own  pen.  We  make  no 
apology,  notwithstanding  the  space  we  shall  occupy  in  our  own  story, 
for  the  length  of  the  extract,  since  it  is  so  rare  one  meets  with  so  much 
elegance  at  the  present  day,  that  we  should  be  inexcusable  did  we  not 
give  the  piece  entire.     Thus  : 

"Historical  Work.  —  The  editor  of  the  New  York  Commercial  Advertiser  is  about 
to  write  a  history,  and  in  order  to  give  efTect  to  details,  and  combine  chronology  with 
description,  he  will  proceed  to  the  place  of  historical  interest,  and  gather  oysters  and  facts 
upon  the  spot.  Sachem's  Head  is  the  name  of  the  place  :  it  is  situated  on  the  Sound,  and 
we  may  expect  something  worthy  the  fame  of  our  contemporary,  when  he  gives  us  his 
history.  —  U.  S.  Gazette.^' 

"  Fair  play,  Mr.  Gazette,  and  no  gouging.  Suppose  you  were  about  to  write  a 
history  of  Plymouth  and  its  Conchology  —  and  nobody  could  do  that  job,  for  that 
place,  belter  than  yourself — would  you  like  to  have  the  world  informed  of  the  fact, 


78  THE   VISION   OF   KUBETA. 

Though,  like  the  lady  in  the  crystal  box, 

Each  earn'd  her  hundred  rings  despite  of  locks  ;    120 


so  that  while  you  were  making  your  arrangements  with  thai  deliberation  which 
becomes  the  dignity  of  a  historian,  every  hungry  scribbler  might  have  a  chance  to 
hie  himself  [iiie]  tliiiher,  and  pick  up  all  the  facts,  and  pick  out  all  the  oysters,  before 
you  reached  the  interesting  field  for  antiquarian  investigation  yourself?  Answer  us 
that,  Master  Brook  !  The  truth  is,  we  are  at  this  lime  engaged  in  writing  another 
history  [Matildas  and  Ids  Impostures  :  'an  quidquam  nobis  tali  sit  munere  majus  ?  '  *] 
which  we  must  finish,  and  you  must  review,  before  we  go  to  Sachem's  Head.  Mean- 
lime  see  that  you  don't  go  there  to  anticipate  us.  Fiction  is  so  much  more  popular 
than  facts,  that  we  should  stand  no  chance  at  all,  gleaning  among  the  oyster  shells 
that  would  be  left  by  you.  Therefore,  be  so  good  as  to  stand  clear  !  "  i\'.  Y.  Comm. 
Adv.  June  11th,  1833. 

"  Circeis  nata  forent,  an 

Lucrinum  ad  saxum,  Rutupinove  edita  ftindo 
Ostrea,  callebat  primo  deprendere  niorsu."f 

We  now  proceed  to  our  proof,  which  will  be  found  enveloped  in  the 
following  authentic  account  of  the  nature  of  this  great  man's  forthcom- 
ing history  of  Sachem's  Head. 

THE  MSS.  of  VALLOMBROSA, 

As  far  as  we  could  gather  the  story,  which  is  as  yet  confined  to  the 
knowledge  of  but  few  persons,  it  is  very  curious,  and  to  this  effect : 

A  monk  of  Vallombrosa,  at  the  time  when  John  Milton  rested 
there,  happened  to  discover  under  the  Gothic  characters  of  some  monk- 
ish manuscripts  certain  valuable  remains  of  antiquity,  and  among  others, 
it  is  said,  on  tlie  pages  of  a  treatise  on  Uroscopy  part  of  the  lost  Dec- 
ades of  Livy!  In  his  joy  at  the  discovery,  he  communicated  its  im- 
portance to  the  Poet,  (with  whom,  from  congeniality  in  many  matters  of 
taste,  he  was  more  familiar  than  his  fellows,)  but,  as  may  be  conjectured 
from  the  silence  of  the  illustrious  bard  on  this  affair,  without  revealing 
its  precise  nature.  The  poet  of  Paradise,  forgetting  his  honesty  in  his 
patriotism,  used  arguments  so  potent  with  the  ambitious  recluse,  that 
the  latter  was  persuaded  to  follow  Milton  to  England,  carrying  with 
him  his  classic  treasures,  with  a  view  to  making  them  known  there 
more  to  his  personal  advantage,  as  his  friend  had  persuaded  him,  than 
he  could  do  in  Italy.  Arriving  at  an  inauspicious  period,  the  poor 
monk,  before  even  he  could  communicate  with  the  Poet,  was  about  to 
fall  a  victim  to  the  misguided  virtue  of  a  party  of  Roundheads,  who 
mistook  the  holy  man  for  an  emissary-pimp  of  the  Virgin  of  Babylon. 

*  ViRO.  Eel.  V.  53.  t  Jiiv.  iv.  140. 


CANTO   SECOND.  79 

Though  you  could  build  a  mound  of  infants'  bones 
Higher  than  hers  whose  lovers  brought  her  stones  ; 

Alarmed  for  his  life,  still  more  for  the  safety  of  his  papers,  he  took 
refuge  with  some  royalists  and  papists  on  board  a  vessel,  wiiich  sailed 
that  very  day  for  America.  The  ship  was  cast  away  near  the  spot 
destined  to  become  so  glorious  by  the  pen  of  America's  greatest  poet, 
historian,  and  colonel ;  and  the  monk  alone  escaped.  Here  he  built 
himself  a  hut,  supplied  it  from  the  wreck  like  Robinson,  and  like 
Robinson  might  have  lived  to  return  to  his  country  and  to  tell  his  own 
story;  but,  unfortunately,  unlike  Robinson,  he  had  no  Friday,  and 
the  Indians  one  day  scalped  him,  and,  as  the  tradition  raked  up  by 
the  illustrious  Rubeta  delivers,  ate  him  up !  Thus,  had  the  parch- 
ment been  in  the  monk's  belly,  thus,  I  say,  would  have  ended  the  history 
of  the  MSS.  of  Vallombrosa  ;  but  fortunately  he  appears  to  have 
buried  them  for  security  in  two  china  pots  of  peculiar  fashion,  which 
had  probably  floated  ashore,  and  which  were  found  by  our  hero,  one 
morning  when  digging  for  mushrooms,  laid  w.th  their  mouths  together, 
and  enveloped  in  a  tarpaulin,  sixteen  feet  below  the  surface  of  the 
ground.  On  them  the  monk  had  told  his  story  in  Latin,  and  had  im- 
plored the  fortunate  finder,  whoever  he  should  be,  to  give  to  light 
those  precious  relics,  for  whose  sake  he,  the  Fra  Ilario,  was  destined 
perhaps  soon  to  perish. 

We  need  not  add,  that,  from  the  known  erudition  of  the  great  dis- 
coverer, the  public  may  expect  one  of  the  richest  treats  in  criticism  that 
have  been  presented  to  tlie  world  since  the  days  of  Joseph  Scaliger. 

N.  B.  One  of  the  vessels  used  as  repositories  is  said  to  be  a  great 
curiosity,  and  though  as  yet  it  has  been  exhibited  to  but  a  few  select 
persons,  ladies  and  antiquarians,  an  English  inscription  has  been  dis- 
covered on  it  quite  legible,  and  supposed  to  be  in  the  very  hand- 
writing of  the  Lady  Margaret  Bellenden,  showing  that  the  pot 
in  question  was  the  identical  p6t-de-chambre  consecrated  by  the  use  of 
his  most  sacred  Majesty,  Charles  II,  of  happy  memory,  on  the  mem- 
orable   occasion  when  he  took   his  disjune  in   the    tower   of  Tillie- 

TUDLEM.  ** 

119,  120.  Though,  like  the  lady  of  the  crystal  box,  —  Each  earned  her 
hundred  rings  despite  of  locks ;]  See  the  story  which  introduces  the 
Arabian  Tales  of  the  Thousand  and  One  Nights.         *  * 

121,  122.  Though  you  could  build  a  mound  of  infants'  bones  —  Higher 
than  hers  tvhose  lovers  brought  her  stones ;]  See  the  account  of  Cheops' 
daughter  and  the  middle  pyramid,  which  she  built  to  the  height  of  a 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  by  the  aid  of  her  lovers,  each  of  whom  brought 
her  a  stone  :  Herod.  II.  cxxvi.        *  * 


80  TPIE   VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

Thougli  not  the  Banian's  double  goddess-queen 
Had  more  capacity  to  be  obscene ; 
Nay,   though   Keboski's    dames,  —  maids,    widows, 
wives,  125 

Were  ne'er  so  trampled  on  in  all  their  lives  ; 
Still  ye  are  women  :  all  I  ask  ;   for  know ! 
No  turkey  ever  peck'd  me  like  Boileau  : 


Vcr.  123,  124.  Though  not  the  Banian's  doxihle  goddess-quccn  —  Had 
more  capacity  to  he  obscene ;]  See  that  dangerous  *  and  frequently  false 
book  of  Helvetius's,  De  V Esprit ;  Essay  ii.  chap.  14. 

125,  126.  A*a?/,  though  Kebosii's  dames —  JVere  ne'er  so  trampled  on  —  ] 
See  the  incredible  stories  in  the  "Collection  of  Voyages  of  the  Dutch 
East  India  Company,"  of  which  this  is  not  the  least  preposterous  one, 
that  the  women  of  Formosa,  (or  Keboski,  as  the  island  is  called  by 
the  natives,)  are  not  permitted  to  bring  forth  till  after  the  age  of  thirty- 
seven,  and  if  any  prove  pregnant  before  that  period,  that  the  priestess, 
{the  "  rough-shod  priests  "  of  Ruby's  Visit,)  delivers  them  very  speedily 
from  the  sin  of  premature  maternity  by  treading  on  the  womb.         *  * 

128.  JVo  turkey  ever  pecked  me  like  JioizsAu :]  That  is,  1 77ever  satirize 
your  sex.  Boileau  is  said  to  have  owed  the  causticity  of  his  spirit 
where  women  Avere  concerned,  and  his  antipathy  to  gallantry,  to  a 
turkey-cock.  Supposing  the  story  to  be  any  thing  but  the  invention  of 
his  enemies,  I  cannot  see  that  it  is  at  all  necessary  to  account  for  the 
severity  of  his  muse  upon  the  ladies.     It  is  not  those  who  love  tlie  sex 

*  All  books  arc  dangerous  whose  morality  is  liable  to  be  misinterpreted.  —  It  is  this 
consideration  which  should  have  prevented  the  author  of  the  Confessions  of  a  Poet 
(a  work  noticed  both  in  Canto  iii.  and  Canto  iv.)  from  publishing,  even  in  a  foreign 
language,  opinions,  which,  however  founded  in  reason,  may  exercise  an  undesign- 
edly pernicious  influence  with  the  weak,  and  by  the  unprincipled  will  be  invariably 
adopted  as  at  once  the  creed  and  the  absolution  of  their  errors  :  (see  the  French 
notes  in  that  novel. ^)  Truth,  though  always  to  be  told,  is  not  to  be  volunteered  at 
all  times  :  an  improvement  of  an  adage,  which  is  only  impugned  by  those  who  are 
the  very  last  to  permit  its  rule  to  be  infracted.        *  * 

a  One  example  : 

When  winding  up  his  reasons  for  presenting  these  notes  in  a  foreign  dress,  he  says: 
"  Le  temple  de  in  nature  ne  doil  s'ouvrir  qu'a  ceux  qui  en  puisse  contempler  Ics  inysteres 

sans  devenir  aveugles."    The  girls  of  Mdme.  's  seminary,  and   the  httlc  pupils  of 

Mdme. ,  must  have  strong  eyes.        *  * 


CANTO   SECOND.  81 

My  code  is  this :     Whatever  be  the  wrong, 
Women  are  right,  —  big,  little,  short,  or  long.        130 
This  is  not  said  to  flatter,  I  assure  ye : 
I  've  prov'd  it  in  the  teeth  of  judge  and  jury^ 

who  always  speak  the  most  favorably  of  it ;  reason  and  passion  being 
generally  at  loggerheads :  and  as  the  famous  Sixth  of  Juvenal  does  not 
show  that  the  poet  wanted  a  beard,  so  Despreaux,  who  has  scarcely  an 
idea  which  is  not  borrowed  from  the  ancients,  might  easily  indulge 
his  wit  without  drawing  on  the  coldness  of  his  complexion. 

Very  true,  as  far  as  that  poet's  own  sarcasms  are  concerned ;  but  Boileau's 
well-known  severity,  to  any  thing  like  gallantry  in  the  writings  of  others,  can  only 
be  attributed  to  a  coldness  of  temperament  that  is  certainly  evident  in  the  frigid 
chasteness  of  his  compositions.  M.  Bret  says,  in  his  edition  of  Moliere  (Aver- 
tissement  sur  Amphitryon) :  "  L'ami  particulier  de  notre  auteur,  Despreaux  lui- 
mfime,  si  I'on  en  croit  le  Bolceana,  ne  pouvait  souffiir  lea  tendresses  de  Jupiter  et 
d'Alcmene,  et  surtout  cette  scene  ou  le  Dieu  joue  si  ingenieusement  sur  les 
termes  d'epous  et  d'amant.  L'humeur  de  Boileau,  a  cet  egard,  annoncait  bien 
celle  que  devait  lui  donner  la  galanterie  de  Tesprit  de  Quinault."  And  again, 
(Observations  sur  Amphilnjon,)  "La  galanterie  du  r^gne  sous  lequel  Moliere 
ecrivait,  lui  a  fourni  des  ressources  ingenieuses,  mais  dont  son  ami  Despreaux 
faisait  peu  de  cas."  Therefore  the  story  of  the  ferocious  turkey  may  be  very  true  ; 
though  it  must  be  allowed  that  men  may  lack  the  fire  of  Rubeta  without  the 
agency  of  fowls.        *  * 

132.  /  he  proved  it  in  the  teeth  of  judge  and  jury.]  See  in  the  Com- 
mercial Adv.  of  July  13th,  1835,  Rubeta's  notice  of  a  suit  for  breach 
of  promise  between  a  journeyman-housepainter  and  a  country  girl 
where  tiie  former,  to  the  great  indignation  of  the  gallant  Colonel,  was 
plaintiff.  The  court  did  their  duty ;  but  the  squire  of  dames  enlisted  all 
hih  sympathies  in  the  cause  of  the  unfortunate  fair  one,  took  a  dose  of 
cantharides  directly,  and  poured  out  his  thunder  in  the  very  spirit  of 
B  JREE.    "  Yes,"  said  he, 

"  Yes ;  in  this  '  age  of  refinement,'  —  this  '  noblest  counti^  under  Heaven,'  a  man 
has  been  found  of  such  peculiar  temperament,  to  use  no  harsher  term,  as  to  make  a 
traffic  of  the  feelings  of  a  woman  whom  he  professed  to  love  ;  to  use  the  power 
which  her  confiding  simplicity  and  inexperience  had  given  him,  as  a  means  of 
gratifying  his  avarice  ;  with  assurance  enough  to  come  openly  before  the  world 
with  letters  of  the  girl,  written  in  moments  of  artless  and  unsuspecting  confi- 
dence, and  with  the  certainty,  of  course,  of  being  shown  up  as  the  author  of  the 
letters  bearing  his  signature,  —  of  which,  under"  the  like  circumstances,  we  would 
certainly  prefer  paying  the  thousand  dollar  verdict,  than  to  he  the  writer ;  —  and  — 
tell  it  not  in  London,  —  publish  it  not  in  the  streets  of  Edinburgh,  — a  New  York 
11 


82  THE    VISION    OF   RUBETA. 

No  !   by  the  iiniiiorlal  spirits  of  the  fair 

Who  glitter  in  my  Tales,  —  by  these  I  swear, 

jury   has   been  willing  to   lend  liim  aid  and  countenance  in  his  purpose  !  Well 
iniglit  Burke  exclaim  '  the  age  of  chivalry  is  gone  ! '  " 

How  much  was  Burke  mistaken  !    We,  it  is  true,  who  are  too  old  to 

feel  this  working   of  the  spirit,  and  who  have  abandoned  Venus  for 

Minerva,  we,  I  say,  cannot  well  conceive  of  there  being  excited  by  a 

just  decision  such  a  sublime  fury  as  rages  in  this,  and  in  tlic  preceding 

part,  (which  want  of  space  obliges  us  most  reluctantly  to  omit,)  of  Ru- 

beta's  eloquent  tirade :  but  can  we,  not  the  less,  admire,  reverence, 

adore. 

"  Come  sit  thee  down  upon  this  flowery  bed, 

While  I  thy  amiable  cheeks  do  coy. 
And  stick  musk-roses  in  thy  sleek  smooth  head. 
And  kiss  thy  fair  large  ears,  my  gentle  joy."  ^■ 
JV.  B.  It  is  with  much  deference  that  we  modestly  suggest  to  the 
ciiivalrous  advocate  of  "  sensibility "  and  of  the  unalienable  rights  of 
woman  to  do  wrong,  that  he  adopt  the  advertisement  of  Mr.  Badeau's 
celebrated  Plaster ;  which  is  thus  : 

"A  CARD  TO  THE  LADIES. 
"  The  subscriber's  opinion  of  the  female  mind  and  character  is  too  far  exalted 
to  suppose  for  a  moment,  that  tlic  ladies  of  this  city  and  elsewhere,  to  whom  this 
Card  is  politely  addressed,  can  be  cajoled  or  flattered  to  patronize  him,  but  wishes 
to  address  himself  to  their  good  sense  only.  They  are  respectfully  informed,  that 
'  Badeau's  celebrated  Strengthening  Plasters,'  were  prepared  with  special  reference 
to  their  favor,  etc.  etc." 

It  is,  as  Sterne  says,f  but  changing  Badeaii's  celebrated  Strengthening 
Plasters  into  Ruheta's  eloquent  Dissertations,  and  saying  nothing  about 
coughs  and  asthnas,  and  the  Card  is  a  right  good  one.  You  will  find 
it,  eloquent  sir,  in  the  N.  Y.  American,  directly  over  the  feeling  address 
to  the  public  of  one  Dr.  Horne. 

133,  134.  Ao.'  hj  the  immortal  spirits  of  the  fair — Iflio  glitter  in  my 
Tales,  —  by  these  1  swear,]  After  repeated  consideration  of  this  splen- 
did passage,  we  put  it  far  before  the  famous  oath  of  Demosthenes 
quoted  and  commented  on  by  Longinus.  Let  us  consider  the  two. 
What  says  Demosthenes  ?  Ow»  te-r/v  otnus  ti/^d^rtTi,  oh  (to,  rov;  Iv  Maga- 
fuvi  Tr^oKiviunvffa^Tus.X  You  have  not  erred,  my  countrymen!  j\'o!  by 
those  who  jeoparded  their  lives  for  you  at  Marathon  !  And  what  is  tlie 
object  of  this  apostrophe  to  the  valiant  dead  ?     To  justify  his  own  ill 

*  TiTANiA  to  Bottom  :  Mid.  A'iglU's  Dream.  t  ISenlim.  Journey.        *  *' 

X  De  Sublim.  xvi.  ex  ed.  Fearcii. 


CANTO  SECOND  83 

'T  would  grieve  Ru beta's  bowels,  ev'n  to  vex      i35 
The  Devil  himself,  were  he  to  change  his  sex ! 
Then  let  us  on,  nor  waste  those  hours  in  tea. 
Which  promise  you  revenge, —  fame,  gold,  to  me. 
Let  down  your  tails  ;  in  grave  procession  pass  ; 
Your  champion  leads,  your  own  predestin'd  ass !    i4o 

conduct,  and  make  the  Atheinans  satisfied  with  their  defeat.     Now 

LONGINUS  says :  "E<r«  Ss  ou  ro  oruirovv  viva  Bfioirai  fitya,  ro  St  v'tiv,  ko.)  vui, 
xai  \<p'  av  Kui^av,  xa)  rUo;  'ivixa.*  But  it  is  not  the  mere  adjuration  invests 
the  oath  ivith  grandeur;  hut  the  tvhere,  and  the  how,  and  the  occasions 
when,  and  the  cause  for  tvhich.  And  in  all  these  points,  how  great  the 
superiority  of  our  hero !  If  the  Athenian  orator  addresses  his  to  his 
countrymen  at  a  time  when  they  were  sore  for  their  misfortunes,  and 
disposed  to  throw  the  blame  thereof  on  him,  when,  in  a  word,  they 
were  gloomy  and  irritable,  the  Manhattanese  employs  his  figure  at 
the  very  moment  when  he  had  discharged  all  the  arguments  of  conso- 
lation he  could  bring  to  bear  upon  the  distress  of  the  nuns,  thus  seizing 
their  minds  at  the  desired  heat  and  bending  them  to  his  purpose  by  this 
tremendous  blow  of  the  double-iianded  hammer  of  his  eloquence.  Is 
the  cause  in  question  ?  By  how  much  the  disgrace  of  the  nuns,  and  the 
slander  of  their  reputation,  are  of  more  moment  than  the  defeat  of  the 
Athenian  arms,  and  the  loss  of  the  battle  of  Cheron^a,  and  by  how 
much  women  are  of  greater  count  than  men,  by  so  much  does  the 
Gazetteer  surpass  the  Orator.  And  if  the  manner  is  to  be  considered, 
with  what  advantage  does  the  propriety,  the  artfulness,  the  energy,  the 
grace,  of  the  eloquent  Modern  stand  beside  that  of  the  Ancient !  De- 
mosthenes gives  immortality  to  those  who  were  already  dead,  and 
who,  therefore,  had  it  as  their  right ;  Rubeta  deifies  the  creatures  of 
his  own  imagination,  who  never  had  existence,  and  therefore  could 
not  die. 

"  No  !  by  the  immortal  spirits  of  the  fair 
Who  glitter  in  my  Tales, —  by  these  I  swear : " 

xit6i<rt^    iftTvlufh)s  i^ai^vm   viro  ^lov,  xa)  ehvii  (pottoXvivros    yivifilyai.  f       And 

then  the  compliment  of  bringing  these  pure  beings  of  his  own  crea- 
tion, the  Christina-Diefendorffs  of  his  very  Tales  before  the  suspected 
nuns !  What  art !  What  mastery  over  the  passions  !  Wliat  expres- 
sion in  the  words  "  Who  glitter !  "  glitter  in  his   Tales !  Is  it  not  like 

*  De  Suhlim.  xvi.  ex  eel.  Pearcii.  \  Ibid. 


84  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

But  mark,  what  now  befell !  Just  when,  with  grace, 
I  rose  to  head  the  veil'd  chlorotic  race, 
Green  Father  Richards  left  the  Mother's  side, 
Too  well  with  tea  and  sugarplums  supply'd, 
Cross'd  the  spread  board,  and,  stepping  on  mj  arm, 
Rose  to  my  peak :  here  perch'd,  while  in  alarm      uo 
I  cry'd,  Dear  Sir,  donH  make  your  pulpit  there! 
Unloaded  all  his  stomach  in  my  hair. 

hanging  a  pair  of  diamond  earrings  before  the  eyes  of  his  hearers  ? 
How  must  they  haye  coveted  a  like  distinction !  How  promised  to 
themselves  to  endeavour  to  be  worthy  of  it !  Yes !  thine  is  the  palm, 
RuBETA  !  Yes,  by  thine  own  reviews  !  by  those  which  figure  in  each 
Saturday's  American!  by  the  Longinistic  pen  of  Adam  Waldie! 

148.  Unloaded  all  his  stomach  —  ]  Commentators  find  fault  with  this 
relation  as  incredible,  and  impugn  thereon  Rubeta's  tried  veracity, — 
Rubeta's  !  A  note,  by  an  unknown  hand,  then  adds  that  there  is  no 
miracle  whatever  in  the  matter;  that  a  very  simple  operation  of  Nature's 
is  intended  to  be  expressed  under  a  poetic  guise ;  it  being  but  necessary 
to  understand  by  stomach  the  lower  intestines,  and  to  take  the  adjective 
all  as  elegantly  reduplicative,  to  render  the  passage  clear  enough.  All 
of  which  is  superfluous  commentary.  Rubeta  does  not  mean  a  fecular 
discharge,  but  that  the  bird  did  actually  relieve  his  loaded  stomach,  and 
of  course  by  the  bill ;  for  observe,  in  a  line  above  he  tells  us,  that  the 
reverend  father  ate  too  many  sugarplums,  and  bibbled  too  much  tea,  the 
Lady  Superior  doubtless  either  too  absorbed  by  the  hero's  eloquence  to 
notice  the  intemperance,  or  weakly  indulgent  to  her  favorite's  appetites. 
Besides,  pigeons  are  well  known  to  evacuate  the  contents  of  the 
stomach  by  the  tliroat,  and  this  at  pleasure.  We  would  recommend 
to  the  notice  of  the  commentators  aforesaid,  but  "  with  a  difference," 
what  the  mighty  Cell-explorer  has  himself  observed  : 

"  The  philosophic  eye  sees  all  things  common. 
Though  birds  should  vomit  like  a  seasick  tcoman."        *  * 
There  can  be   little  question  that  the  excellent  Editor  is  quite  out 
liere.    The  note  by  oi  unknown  hand  is  more  plausible. 

Corrector. 


CANTO   SECOND.  86 

Then  would  the  nymph,  whose  pipe  assuages  pain, 
With  roseate  hand  remove  the  sacred  stain.  loO 

Touch  not !   I  cry'd  ;  there  let  the  unction  stay, 
Chaplet  at  once,  and  omen  of  the  day : 
Not  now  the  first  time  Heav'n  has  spoke  by  birds ; 
And  know  ye  not  whose  skull  press'd  fame  from 
common  curds  ? 

Then  rose  the  hawk-bill'd  Mother-nun,  and  said,  155 
While  the  sweat  stood  like  bead-drops  on  her  head : 
Go  now,  my  son ;  lead  on  our  virgin  pow'rs ; 
Fate  and  my  parrot  mark  this  day  as  ours. 
For  this,  I  tingle  with  prophetic  fire  : 
My  pains  are  fled  ;  and  see,  how  I  perspire  !  i6o 

Ver.  149.  —  the  nymph  whose  pipe  assuages  pain,"]  Cltstera,  doubt- 
less.       *  * 

152.  Chaplet  at  once,  and  omen  of  the  day .]  This  line  we  explain  in 
the  following  manner.  Rubeta  considers  the  unction  as  a  reward  of 
what  he  had  already  done  in  the  delivery  of  his  incomparable  oration, 
—  the  parrot  being  undoubtedly  the  bird  of  eloquence,  —  and  as  an 
omen  of  success  in  the  intended  enterprise,  by  indicating  that  all  the 
filth  of  Monk's  aspersions  was  henceforth,  removed  from  the  nuns  for- 
ever, to  rest  upon  his  own  head. 

JVote.  We  are  conscious  of  extending  by  such  comments  the  time 
of  reading  this  episode  to  an  unconscionable  length  ;  but  our  desire  of 
illustrating  every  step  of  this  great  man's  splendid  actions,  and  of  show- 
ing the  full  pith  of  all  his  words,  will  excuse  us  ;  and  even  the  Reader 
Bhall  find  his  recompense,  in  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  to  the  core  the 
illustrious  and  extraordinary  being,  to  whom  modern  times  have  given 
birth  for  the  admiration  of  the  world  and  the  eternal  glory  of  his  native 
Connecticut.         *  * 

154.  ^nd  knoio  ye  not,  etc.]  Don  Quixote's,  through  the  modesty  of 
Sancho. 


8G  Tin:   VISION  OF  rubkta. 

Here,  on  this  oaken  stool,  1  take  my  stand, 

Thus  o'er  that  lovely  head  extend  my  hand  : 

My  hour  is  come  ;  Fate's  forceps  aids  the  pain ; 

And  Truth  celestial  issues  from  my  brain. 

Be  bold  :  I  see,  now,  now,  thy  triumph  nigh !        i65 

I  see  my  ass  spirt  fountains  to  the  sky  ! 

Trapdoors  and  children  disappear  at  once ! 

Slander  is  mute,  and  Malice  proves  a  dunce. 

'T  is  done !  No  more  Monk's  impious  fires  burn  : 

Back  floats  the  train  —  But  ah  !  its  glad  return      i70 

Gladdens  not  me  :  for,  now  thy  labors  end. 

Thy  wife  calls  home  —  Adieu !  my  son !  my  friend  ! 

No  more  those  saintly  lips  shall  Boiteuse  see, 

No  more  that  voice  recall  my  dream  to  me, 

No  more  shall  beam  those  eyes  these  eyes  before,  175 

Nor  little  rounded  belly  pant  —  No  more! 

Behold  Manhattan  pouring  forth  her  sons : 

Her  Wit  returns,  —  her  evening-prince  of  puns  ! 

Ver.  176.  —  no  more  !  ]  Not  the  A",  at,  of  the  Greek  tragedian,  nor 
the  Mai  piu  of  the  modern  Italian,  is  half  so  mournful  as  this  Afo  more .' 
One  may  see  the  Lady  Superior  overcome  with  grief,  hear  her  voice 
broken  with  sobbing,  and  witness  the  struggle  in  her  bosom  as  she 
strives  for  utterance  of  the  anguish  she  feels  in  anticipation  of  the  loss 
of  tlic  hero's  company.  How  amiable  must  be  the  person,  how  extra- 
ordinary his  merit,  to  make  so  deep  an  impression  in  so  brief  a  visit ! 
177-182.  Behold  Manhattan,  etc.'\  ** 

Post  triste  exilium,  patriis  cum  redditus  oris, 
Lsetitiam  ingcntem  populorum,  omnesque  per  urbes 
Accipics  plausus,  et  Iffitas  undique  voces, 
Votaque  pi;o  reditu  persolvent  debita  matres. 

ViDiE  Poet.  Lib.  i.  v.  21  -25, 


CANTO  8ECOJND.  87 

Hark !  the  green  wharves  his  Visit  hawk  for  sale  ; 
The  Visit,  gin  and  oyster  shops  retail :  i80 

Erin  in  Elm-street  toasts  the  darling  boy, 
And  Chatham's  orange-women  sob  for  joy. 

Thus  shall  thy  home  do  honor  to  thy  parts. 
Nor  deem  that  here  we  bear  ungrateful  hearts. 
What  though,  poor  maids,  (most  poor  in  worldly 

sense !)  185 

We  cannot  line  thy  pantaloons  with  pence, 
Yet  may  we  mount  thy  virtues  to  the  sky. 
And  place  thy  name  with  thousand  saints  on  high. 
Thus  for  thy  brow  a  double  wreath  shall  twine, 
Honor'd  alike  as  human  and  divine.  lOO 

While  monks  wear  cowls  and  nuns  Italian  crape. 
While  bears  and  newsmen  lick  their  cubs  to  shape, 
While  curs  with  kicks,  and  fools  with  laughter  meet. 
Thy  name  shall  be  as  common  as  the  street. 

Ver.  181.  — Elu-strest — ]     A  locality  of  the  Five-points,  the  St. 
Gileses  of  New  York. 
191-194.   Jf'hile  monks,  etc. "l 

Dum  juga  montis  aper,  fluvios  dum  piscis  amabit, 
Dumque  thymo  pascentur  apes,  dum  rore  cicadse, 
Semper  honos  nomenquc  tuura  laudesque  manebunt. 

ViRG.  Ed.  V.  76. 

The   great  Mantuan  was  so  fond   of  this  passage   as  to  imitate 
himself: 

In  freta  dum,  etc.  .En.  i.  607-610. 

191.  —  and  nuns  Italian  crape,]     "  They  wear  a  black  Italian  crape 
cap."  —  Visit  to  Montreal,  &c. 


88  THE    VISION   or   RU13ETA. 

No  barren  title  hence  shall  feed  thine  ear  ;  195 

Colonel  alone,  or  paltry  Gazetteer  ; 
But  wits  shall  emulous  rehearse  thy  praise, 
These  in  loose  prose,  and  those  in  measur'd  lays  : 
Broadway's  gay  shops  thy  honor'd  bust  shall  deck. 
With  lengthen'd  ears  and  horizontal  neck  ;  200 

That  men  shall  say,  when,  thronging  near  to  see^ 
They  recognise  thy  face  with  sober  glee, 
What  will  not  love  of  fame  and  gold  inspire  ! 
Behold  the  ass  that  quenched  the  convent-fire  ! 

Yes,  not  forgotten,  though  we  bid  adieu,  205 

Thy  name  shall  live  while  tow'rs  the  Hotel  Dieu : 
Rais'd  by  thy  sanctity  dear  saint  of  maids. 
That  kiss  thy  toe  in  all  their  thousand  needs. 
Thy  shrine  shall  stand  immortal  as  St.  Paul's, 
And  little  St.  Rubetas  stock  our  walls  !  21O 

Then  "  St.  Rubeta  !  "  quaver'd  near  and  wide 
The  nuns'  shrill  pipes  :  the  cloisters  ^Beta  sigh'd  : 
"^Eta,  the  empty  plates,  the  empty  bowls  reply'd. 


Ver.  195  -  19S.   JVo  barren  title  hence  shall  feed  thine  ear ;  —  Colonel 
alone,  etc. 

At  tua  non  titulus  capiet  sub  stcmmate  facta ; 
iEterno  scd  erunt  tibi  magna  volumina  versu, 
Convenientque  tuas  cupidi  componere  laudea 
Undiquo,  quique  canent  vincto  pede,  quique  soluto. 
Cdrm.  ad  Messalam  panegyr.  —  Tibdlli  Lib.  iv.  Carm.  I,  v.  33-36. 
ed.  Heyne.  Lips.  1777. 

212,  213.  —  the  cloisters  'Beta  sighed :  —  'Eta,  the  empty  plates,  the  empty 
bowls  reply'd.']     How  readily  manners  are  communicated !     Yet  could 


CANTO  SECOND.  89 

But,  rang'd  in  column,  stand  the  vestal  train. 
Six  virgins  undergo  the  mystic  cane.  215 

we,  but  for  this  liis  own  evidence,  have  believed  that  Rubeta  had  hap- 
pily infected,  or  inoculated  (if  this  word  were  as  much  applicable  as 
it  is  more  respectful),  the  very  walls  and  furniture  of  the  convent  with 
his  taste  for  joking?  —  By  the  by,  the  sighing,  which  the  cloisters  in- 
dulged in,  must  have  been  of  that  pleasing  kind  which  is  unmixed  with 
pain  ; 

Not  soche  sorowfull  sighes  as  men  make 
For  wo,  or  els  whan  that  folke  be  sike, 
But  easie  sighes ; 
{3de  Booke  of  Troilus.     Chaucer's  Woorkes,  1561,  fol.  clxxiii :) 
for  they  could  not  regret  that  the  presence  which  inspired  them  was  to 
be  canonized  despite  his  Protestantism,  and  thus  rendered  more  proper 
for  their  love  and  admiration.     In  the  same  sense  the  platters  might  be 
said  "  to  weep,  yet  scarce  know  why." 

We  would  further  remark,  what  seems  to  have  escaped  the  Poet,  that 
the  passage  in  the  text  bears  a  resemblance  to  one  in  Virgil's 
Daphnis  : 

Ipsi  Isetitia  voces  ad  sidera  jactant 
Intonsi  montes  ;  ipsas  jam  carmina  rupes, 
Ipsa  sonant  arbusta :  Deus,  deus  ille,  Menalca !      v.  61-  63. 
and  again  to  one  in  Ovid : 

Flebile  nescio  quid  queritur  lyra,  flebile  lingua 
Murmurat  exanirais  ;  respondent  flebile  ripee. 

Metam.  xi.  52,  53.        *  * 

By  permission,  we  suggest,  that  the  regret  of  so  soon  losing  the  Prince  were  suffi- 
cient cause  for  the  feeble  tones  in  which  the  acclaim  was  repeated.  What  other 
feeling,  except  weakness  could  shorten  it  so  well  into  Beater  and  Eater? — If  our 
poor  sense  should  be  thought  of  importance,  we  shall  be  a  proud  man  ;  for  we  feel  the 
same  love  growing  on  us  for  the  hero,  with  which  his  transcendent  virtues  have  justly 
animated  the  historian  of  his  actions  and  the  editor  of  his  fame.  Compositor. 

215.  —  mystic  —  ]  I  suppose,  as  having  occult  virtues  ;  to  which  the 
hero  has  alluded  in  one  or  two  places  already :  — 

What  present  honor  waits  this  rod  divine 
Yourself  shall  witness,  Mother,  ere  you  dine  : 

Canto  i.  V,  437,  438. 
And  a  little  below. 

Dead  babe  hope  not  to  hide, 
Nor  friar's  sandal,  where  this  wand  is  guide ! 
Aided  by  which,  shall  pierce  your  very  stones 
My  eagle  eyes,  and  find  those  little  bones  ! 

lb.  455  -  458.     *  * 
12 


90  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

So,  in  Otranto's  castle  of  affrights, 
The  sword  is  shoulder'd  by  a  hundred  knights. 
I  marshall'd  all,  and  help'd  them  hook  their  tails, 
Then  plac'd  me  at  their  front,  proud  Captain  of  the 

Veils. 
As  when,  Aquarius  chaining  up  the  deep,  220 

Wedg'd  in  the  solid  bay  whole  navies  sleep; 
But  Caurus  keen,  with  Boreas  forc'd  to  fly, 
To  milder  Notus  yields  the  gelid  sky  ; 
Parting  in  fragments  huge,  sweeps  out  to  sea 
The  rifted  ice  :  the  expectant  vessels,  free,  225 

Spread  their  broad  wings,  and,  sidelong  through  the 

spray. 
In  long  succession  take  their  vary'd  way. 
So,  the  refection  o'er,  and  blessing  said. 
Onward  we  sail,  our  course  no  more  delay'd  ; 
I,  deeply  fraught,  a  ship  of  thousand  tons  230 

Bound  for  Cathay  ;  the  lighter  craft,  the  nuns. 
Ev'n  thus  the  gander  heads  his  female  stock ; 
So  bears  the  bell  the  wether  of  the  flock. 

Ver.  216,  217.  So,  in  Otxanto's  castle  of  affrights,  —  The  sword  is  shoul- 
dered by  a  hundred  knights.]  It  sometimes  happens  that  a  book  which 
shall  have  made,  however  unjustly,  a  reputation  in  its  day,  retains  the 
same  long  after  the  test  which  Time  is  supposed  to  apply  in  all  such 
cases;  and  this  because  men  arc  too  lazy  or  too  timid  to  think  for  them- 
selves, or,  slaves  to  the  tyrant  Opinion,  dare  not  own  they  do  so. 

231.  —  Cathat  —  ]  The  old  name  for  Chkna  :  so  used  by  tiie  poet  of 
the  Seasons: 

Save  when  its  annual  course  the  caravan 

Bends  to  the  golden  coast  of  rich  Cathay, 

With  news  of  human  kind.  Winter,  806. 


CANTO  SECOND.  91 

We  make  the  port :   before  us  frown  the  cells. 
Set  down  the  staff,  —  I  cry'd, —  time-honor'd  belles  ! 
And  now  attend.     'T  is  said,  unlike  her  sex,  236 

The  cloister'd  maiden  glories  to  perplex ; 
That  on  our  nose  you  '11  lay  a  guiding  hand, 
And  fill  these  eyes  at  will  with  convent-sand. 
But  prythee  look,  sweet  spirits,  ere  you  leap  !         240 
Nor  think  to  catch  an  Argus  fast  asleep. 
Ay,  by  those  graceful  skirts  which  I  adore, 
I  '11  close  my  lids,  and  stand  stock  still,  before  ! 
Resolv'd  I  am,  (and,  saving  Heav'n  on  high. 
Naught  the  resolves  can  melt  of  such  as  I,)  245 

Resolv'd  I  am,  to  search  you  through  and  through ; 
From  vault  to  chimney-top ;  each  door  undo, 

Ver.  235.  —  time-honored  —  ]  "Time-honor'd  Lancaster."  Rich.  ii. 
An  epithet  that  must  have  been  peculiarly  grateful  to  the  venerable 
spinsters,  now  "past  age."        *  * 

238,  239.  That  on  our  nose  you  HI  lay  a  guiding  hand,  —  ^nd  Jill  these 
eyes  at  will  with  convent-sand.] 

"I  said  to  them  frankly,"  (a  very  common  euphemism  for  impudentlij,)  "  that  I 
had  been  admonished  *  of  their  arts  of  deception,  and  had  been  told  that  they  would 
mislead  me  at  every  turn,  and  throw  dust  in  my  eyes  at  their  own  pleasure." 
Visit,  etc. 

240.  —  sweet  spirits  —  ]  The  hero  uses  this  same  tender  appellation 
in  his  published  narrative.         *  * 

243.  /  HI  close  my  lids,  and  stand  stock  still  —  ]  This  ingenious  way 
of  preventing  the  catastrophe  with  which  he  was  threatened  cannot  be 
too  much  admired.        *  * 

346-251.  Resolved  I  am,  etc.] 

—  "  that  I  was  resolved  to  scrutinize  the  whole  structure,  in  all  its  ramifications, 
from  garret  to  cellar, —  to  lift  every  trap-door, — to  inspect  every  secret  vault, — 
unbar  every  door,  —  search  every  cellar,  —  and  thread  every  subterranean  passage." 
Visit,  etc. 

*  Stonington  dialect  for  advised,  informed,  or  perhaps  warned.  Joannes  Gramm.  de 
Anglo-AmericancB  Lingual  Dialectis. 


92  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Lift  ev'ry  trap,  explore  each  secret  nook, 

Inspect  your  closets,  in  your  night-pans  look, 

Walls,  vessels,  urinals,  chests,  cupboards,  sound,     250 

And  thread  your  pleasure-gardens  under  ground  ! 

This  will  I  do,  Maria's  self  to  guide ! 

Her  luscious  parts,  lo !  mark'd  by  dog's-ears  wide. 

Therefore  I  trust  ye  will  not  feel  surprise, 

If  aught  that  is  peculiar  meet  these  eyes.  255 

Fear  not,  says  Putain  :  Dear  !  Pucelle  and  I 
Will  show  you  any  thing  you  wish  to  spy. 

Then  first  Garotte's  trim  chamber  glads  the 
view. 
Green  was  the  couch ;  green  hung  the  valance  too. 
Two  tall-back'd  chairs  in  green  old  age  are  there,  2C0 
Desk,  crucifix,  and  books  of  holy  pray'r. 
Dear,  simple  dormitory  !  Zion's  head 
Might  catch  repose  upon  thy  cat-tail  bed  ! 
Next  Plainchant  opens  ;  and  the  soft  Serin. 
Church-anthems  spread  their  choral  sheets  within.  265 

Ver.  252.  —  Maria's  self  to  guide  !] 

—  "my  determinalion  was  to  make  the  examination  book  in  hand,  and  refer  to  its 
pages  as  occasion  might  require.     Sucli  was  the  course  pursued."      Visit,  etc. 

263.  Her  luscious  parts,  lo !  marked  by  dog's-ears  wide.'\ 

"A  few  passages  for  special  reference  were  marked  in  pencil,  and  the  leaves  turned 
down  at  others."    Ibid. 

864  -  257.  Therefore  I  trust  ye  will  not  feel  surprise,  etc.  ] 

—  "that  consequenily  I  trusted  tliey  would  be  neither  displeased  nor  surprised,  e<c. 
They  replied,  etc."    Ibid. 

262.  —  Zion's  —  ]     Ixion's.  —  The  word  in  the  text  should  doubtless 
be  written  thus :  ^Xion's;  the  /  being  cut  off  by  a  very  natural  apheeresis. 


CANTO  SECOND.  93 

Grisceil,  thy  room ;  thine  too,  Noir(eil,  we  tread  ; 
Turn  up  thy  valance,  and  inspect  the  bed. 
Thine,  pale  Chlorosis;  Leucorrhea,  thine; 
Fragrant  of  cordials,  labelFd  Feminine. 
Next  stir  the  sheets  by  Boiteuse  nightly  press'd.   270 
There,  Gray,  thy  Patent  Ointment  stinks  confess'd  ! 
In  Putain's  corners  dart  our  critic  eye  : 
And  quit,  Pucelle,  thy  chamber  with  a  sigh. 
Then  Phlebotemna's  lancets  shock  the  sight, 
And  Swedish  leeches  chill  me  with  affright.  275 

But  lo  !   Clystera's  bladders  dun  display'd. 
Dear,  slender  tubes !  how  oft  we  've  bless'd  thy  aid ! 

Indeed,  both  the  copy  in  the  library  of  the  Olivetans  at  Naples,  and 
that  in  the  Ambrosian  library  at  Milan,  read: 

Dear,  simple  dormiture  !  Ixion's  head : 
and,  notwithstanding  the  word  dorndfure  is  without  authority,  except  in 
its  rugged  contraction  dorture,  we  confess  we  prefer  this  reading. 

#  # 

If  any  letter  were  cut  off  it  would  be  the  o,  or  our  ear  is  sadly  out: 
Dear,  simple  dormit'ry  !  Ixion's  head: 
besides,   my   eldest  boy,   who  has  been  a  year  at  College,  tells   me 
the  /  in  Ixion  is  long,  as  he  calls  it,  and  is  sounded  hard   and   full : 
therefore,  so  exact  a  scholar  as  Rubeta  would  not  have  slurred  it. 
The  text  must  be  right.  Corrector. 

263.  Might  catch  repose  upon  thy  cat-tail  bed!] 

"  The  unsopliisticated  reader  may  perhaps  think  these  '  cells '  are  very  dark  and 
gloomy  places,  with  stone  floors,  and  lock  and  bars,  and  grates.  No  such  thing," 
says  Ruby.  "They  are  neat  little  apartments,  containing  a  single  bed,"  etc. 
Visit,  etc. 

269.  Fragrant  of  cordials,  lahelVd  Feminine.']  "  The  Female  Cordial 
of  Health,"  we  suppose.     See  the  N.  Y.  American,  1837.         *  * 

271.  —  Gray,  thy  Patent  Ointment  stinks  confessed!]  "Gray's  Pat. 
Ointment,  for  the  cure  of  White  Swellings,  etc.  etc."  See  the  Man- 
hattanese  newspapers,         *  * 


94  THE  VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

Destin'd,  that  night,  to  know  thy  power  most  bland 
When  minister'd  by  woman's  feeling  hand. 
Then,  crossing  Hydropique's  unwelcome  sill,        280 
We  hover  o'er  thy  nest,  star-ey'd  Fretille  ! 
And  so,  through  all  the  chambers,  twice  eighteen : 
Turn'd  down  the  sheets,  and  beat  the  covers  green. 
In  every  spot  my  patrimonial  cane 
Its  iron  finger  thrust,  but  thrust  in  vain.  285 

Loud  laugh'd  Fretille,  and  gravely  smil'd  her  mates. 
To  see  their  missals  search'd  for  wicked  plates. 
But,  nothing  dash'd,  I  prob'd  the  very  locks. 
And  rak'd  the  keyhole  twice  for  infants'  socks : 
Then  peep'd  beneath  the  valance,  bending  knee  :    290 
But  nothing  there  was  hid,  but  what  should  be. 

This  done,  the  train  descend,  with  added  strength, 
Where  stretch  the  vaults  their  dark,  suspicious  length. 

Ver.  282,  283.  And  so,  through  all  the  chambers,  etc.  —  Turned  down,  etc.] 

—  "examining  every  apartmenl  with  the  most  deliberate  and  eagle-eyed  altention. 
We  visited  the  cells  of  the  nuns,  and  examined  their  furniture,  etc.  etc.  Every  door, 
of  every  room,  closet,  and  pantry,  was  readily  opened  at  my  request,  etc."     Visit,  etc. 

286.  Loud  laughed  Fbetille,  and  gravely  smifd  her  mates, —  To  see 
their  missals  searched  —  ] 

"  The  books,  so  far  as  we  looked  at  them,  were  such  as  good  protestants  might 
become  still  belter  by  reading."  "  —  so  pleasant  was  their  laughter  at  some  of  our  re- 
marks," [no  doubt,]  "that  1  asked  them  in  badinage,"  [a  favorite  expression  with 
Rubeta  of  which  we  do  not  know  the  meaning,]  "  what  right  they  had  to  laugh, — 
that  in  such  a  place  their  business  must  be  to  look  grave  and  gloomy,  and  never 
smile !  "     [Pleasant  fellow  !  ]     Ihid. 

288.  —  probed  the  very  locks,] 

—  "  there  was  not  an  apartment  in  either  story  which  1  did  not  examine  with  the 
closest  scrutiny,  from  floor  to  ceiling.  —  "     Ibid. 

292.  —  with  added  stre7iglh,'\ 

—  "  being  soon  joined  by  several  additional  members  of  the  sisterhood,  who  ac- 
eonipanied  us  through  our  examination."     Ibid. 


CANTO   SECOND.  95 

Once  more  I  range  their  virgin  ranks,  but  place 
The  fresh  recruits,  all  novices,  in  face.  295 

Fair  postulants  !  and  ye  !  whose  riper  years 
Man  may  not  guess,  until  he  see  your  hairs, 
(Save  one  like  me,  instructed  in  the  sex,) 
Regard  these  walls.     Now,  mark  this  stick  of  sticks  ! 
Greater  than  that,  which  Amram's  prophet-son       3oo 
Wav'd  o'er  the  Coptic  land,  when,  one  by  one, 
Egypt's  first-born  saw  each  his  woolly  poll 
Swarm  like  a  lazar's  back  in  Estambol; 
Or  that  which  bade,  still  bright  in  changeless  youth, 
Thy  chok'd-up  waters  flow,  monastic  Ruth  !  305 

Set  but  the  point  to  yon  gray  wall,  behold. 
Its  sullen  rocks  their  secrets  straight  unfold : 

Ver.  294,  295.  —  but  place  —  The  fresh  recruits,  all  novices,  in  face.] 
The  object  of  this  arrangement  may  be  conjectured  from  v.  75,  76 : 

"Rcbeta's  only  vice. 

Save  lying,  is  to  have  an  eye  too  nice."        *  * 

296.  —  postulants  —  ]  So  Rub  eta  calls  the  novices,  by  an  alias  of 
explanation,  in  his  "  Visit." 

296,  297.  —  ye  !  tvhose  riper  years  —  Man  may  not  guess,  until  he  see 
your  hairs,] 

"This"  (the  "bandeau")  "  is  a  white  linen  band  bound  round  the  forehead,  and 
reaching  down  to  the  eyebrows,  so  as  to  conceal  the  hair  entirely."  Rub.  of  the  cos- 
tume of  the  black  nuns.  —  "  Visit,  etc." 

302,  303.  —  saw  each  his  woolly  poll  —  Swarm,  etc.]  Herodotus, 
speaking  of  the  Colchians,  gives  as  a  reason  for  supposing  they  were 
of  Egyptian  origin,  that  like  the  Egyptians  they  were  black,  and  had 
short  woolly  hair.  {Euterpe,  civ.)  And  as  he  says,  [lb.  xxxvi,)  that  the 
Egyptians  have  their  heads  closely  shorn,  the  populousness  of  the  polls 
might  as  easily  be  seen  as  felt.        *  * 

304,  305.  Or  that  which  bade,  still  bright  in  changeless  youth, —  Thy 
chok'd-up  waters  flow,  monastic  Ruth !  ]  The  feat  of  mein  Heir  Dou- 
sterswivel.    See  the  Antiquary,  (Vol.  I.  chap.  2.    Parker's  edition.) 


96  THE  VISION    OF   RUBETA. 

What  hapless  vestals  there  are  bury'd  quick  ; 
How  long  ere  common  cement  learns  to  stick. 

This  said,  my  arm  directs  the  rod  edgewise.       3io 
I  listen :  but  no  srnother'd  voice  replies. 
Mute  with  amaze,  my  orbs  I  roll  around  ; 
With  rapid  stride,  survey  the  hostile  ground. 
Three  times,  in  rage,  each  angle  I  explore ; 
Three  times  I  smote  :  still  stubborn  as  before  !       3X5 
Three  times  my  weary  loins  I  rest  upon  the  floor. 
Grasp'd  by  the  middle,  then,  I  raise  the  wand, 
Stride  back  a  pace,  and,  with  a  mighty  bound, 
Rapid  as  thunder,  on  the  frowning  rock  3i9 

Rush'd  dire.     Earth's  entrails  tremble  at  the  shock. 
Quiver'd  the  rod  ;   the  frighten'd  nuns  leap'd  back  : 
But  for  the  roof,  escap'd  that  horrid  crack, 
The  Sun  himself  had  shrunk,  and  Heav'n  had  gone 
to  wrack. 


Ver.  312.    Mute   with   amaze,  my  orbs  I  roll  around;  —  With  rapid 
stride^  etc.] 

Ecce  !  furens  animis  aderat  Tirynthiiis  ;  omnemque 
Accessum  lustrans  hue  ora  ferebat  et  illuc, 
Dentibus  infrendens.    Ter  totum,  fervidus  ira, 
Lustrat  Aventini  montem  ;  ter  saxea  tentat 
Limina  nequidquam ;  ter  fessus  valle  resedit. 

ViRG.  .E/i.  viii.  228-232. 
320,  321.  —  Eartli's  entrails  tremble  at  the  shock.  —  Quiver''d  the  rod ; 
the  fiighte'n'd  nuns  leaped  back .] 

Impulsu  quo  maximus  insonat  ssther  ; 

Dissultant  ripae,  refluitque  exterritus  aranis. 

Ibid.  239,  240. 


CANTO   SECOND.  97 

1  pause,  take  breath,  perspire,  give  ear.      In   vain. 
Jesu  !   what  's  that  r     Tlie  echo  of  the  cane.  :j2o 

Alas,  no  groan  !   not  even   hingeless  bones 
Send  out  their  clang,  to  turn  us  all  to  stones. 
And  yet  I  listen'd  !  —  Never  mother's  ear 
So  long'd  iier  lirst-born  babe's  first  word  to  hear. 
When,  its  sweet  eyes  upturn'd  to  nicest  her  eyes,   s-io 
Prone  in  her  arms  the  smiling  infant  lies. 
Its  dimpled  fingers  toying  with  her  breast, 
By  its  small  lips  the  rosy  fountain  prest, 
While  views  the  sire  with  joy  his  imag'd  face. 
And  strains  the  mother  in  his  fond  embrace.  335 

No  smother'd  voice  !   reechoes  but  the  rock  ; 
And  the  gray  mortar,  stubborn,  stands  the  shock. 

With  joy  whose  foreheads  show  no  wanton  hairs, 
In  disappointment  I,  ascend  the  stairs. 


Ver.  324.  /  pause,  take  breath,  etc.]     In  other  editions  : 

"Shook,  not  dismayed,  I  pause  to  hear:  in  vain." 
What  a  morally  sublime  picture  does  this  present !  the  courage  of  one 
man  alone  unshaken,  when  all  nature  was  in  fits,  and  the  hard-bound 
Earth  herself  shook  with  a  colic  !         *  * 

327.  —  stones.]  Some  of  the  copies  write  this  word  with  a  ca])ital  S, 
and  explain  the  phrase  as  implying  something  excessively  stupid  !  What 
they  mean  I  know  not.  Perhaps  it  is  a  proper  name.  But  the  sense  is 
unnecessary,  and  even  frivolous  when  compared  with  that  of  tlie  present 
text.         *  * 

328-335.  — JVever  mother's  ear — So  lo7i{''d,  etc.]  Here  we  have 
another  instance  how  strikingly  the  illustrious  subject  of  this  poem  re- 
sembles the  hero  of  the  iEneid.  Says  Bo.ssu  :  "L'Eneide  est  toutn  dans 
les  passions  tendrcs  et  douces,  parcequc  c'est  lo  caractere  d'Enee." 
Du  Po'eme  Epiquc,  Liv.  iii.  (p.  227.  Ed.  l(i'J3.  Paris.) 
18 


08  THE   VISION   or   RUUETA. 

Yet,  true  to  policy,  unown'd  the  smart,  340 

Comrades,  —  I  said,  with  double  Ajax'  art, — 
Forc'd  by  the  rod,  yon  vaults  have  spoke.    Not  there 
The  secret  lies.     Up,  girls  ;  we  search  elsewhere. 
Lead,  postulants.     What  fear  ?     Rubeta  feels 
No  rude  desire  to  shame  your  modest  heels.  345 

Like  as,  where  Cancer's  tropic  girds  the  main. 
When  the  soft  Trade-winds  sweep  its  placid  plain, 
The  brown  weed  floats,  for  many  a  rood  and  more, 
Isle  after  isle,  from  Carribean  shore  : 
The  sun-burn'd  seaman,  leaning  o'er  the  prow,      35o 
Admires  their  course,  and  wonders  how  they  grow : 
Not  less  continuous  than  these  sons  of  ocean 
The  sisters  glide,  and  with  as  tranquil  motion  ; 
We,  in  their  midst,  conspicuous  o'er  them  all, 
A  bigger  isle,  where  little  sea-crabs  crawl.  355 

But  come,  enliv'ning  orchestra  of  Jove  ! 
Whose  viols  screak  below,  though  tun'd  above  : 


Ver.  341.  —  double  Jjax'  art,]  Read,  meo  periculo,  "  twice  Ulysses' 
art"  ;  for  so  the  hero  must  certainly  have  meant  to  say  ;  and  the  inten- 
tion, everybody  knows,  is  every  thing.         *  * 

343.  —  girts  —  ]  The  amenity  of  Rubeta's  disposition  is  particu- 
larly well  seen  in  the  affectionate  familiarity  of  this  appellation.         *  * 

3d5.  ^  bigger  isle,  where  little  sea-crabs  crawl.]  It  is  one  of  the  idle 
amusements  of  that  idlest  time,  a  sequence  of  days  of  fine  weather  in 
the  tropics,  to  fish  up  the  large  bunches  of  the  weed  which  covers  the 
ocean  on  either  side  of  the  vessel,  and  pick  off  the  little  crabs  which 
make  it  their  travelling  yacht,  and  this  for  the  pleasure  of  leaving  the 
poor  things  to  dry  up  in  the  liot  sun  upon  the  rail ;  for  idleness  often 
makes  men  absurdly  cruel.         *  * 


CANTO   SECOND.  99 

Bright  maids  of  honor  to  queen  Ph(ebe,  who 

Can  speak  so  well  of  maidenhood  as  you  ? 

For  ye  are  virgins  all  (though  somewhat  old)  :        3G0 

Sing,  Muses,  to  my  peers,  the  venture  bold 

Run  by  these  loins,  what  time  on  dusty  shelves 

I  grop'd  for  maids  as  wither'd  as  yourselves. 

Leave  bagpipe,  hautboy,  fiddle,  flute,  and  tabor. 

Or  sound  them  hard,  to  aid  me  now  in  labor.         3G5 

In  the  large  room,  where,  toiling  for  their  bread, 
The  busy  spinners  ply  the  circling  thread, 
Built  from  the  wall  a  smaller  chamber  stands. 
Here  lightly  Time  hath  laid  his  sacred  hands : 

Ver,  359.  —  queen  Pbcebe  —  ]  King  Thcebus,  unquestionably :  and  if 
anybody  objects  to  a  king's  having  maids  of  honor,  he  is  to  suppose  it  to 
be  a  pleasantry  of  Rubeta's.  (See  our  part  of  note  to  v.  363  )  It  is  true, 
however,  that  the  reading  in  the  text  is  maintained  by  a  very  accom- 
plished critic,  who  urges  in  its  defence,  that  as  Phcebe  borrows  her 
brother's  light,  so  on  state-occasions  it  is  probable  she  may  apply  for 
the  Muses  to  swell  her  train,  and  therefore  they  are  properly  called 
her  maids  of  honor.  At  all  events,  (he  well  adds,)  Rubeta  cannot 
be  tvrong.         *  * 

361,  362.  —  the  venture  hold  —  Run  hy  these  loins  —  j  See  note  to 
V.  372,  373.  By  Run  by  these  loiiis,  some  suppose  the  hero  to  have 
meant  to  allude  to  the  danger  incurred  by  those  parts  in  particular  as 
sung  in  v.  450  -  458.        *  * 

363.  —  as  withered  as  yourselves.]  Gross  ignorance.  The  celestials 
enjoy  eternal  youth.  For  Avhat  other  cause  is  Hebe  made  their  cup- 
bearer?    Cerdanus. 

The  phrase  is  merely  figurative;  the  "Captain  of  the  Veils"  meaning 
to  denote  the  length  of  time  they  had  already  existed,  not  to  reproach 
them  with  its  ravages.     Heyne. 

Heyne  is  wrong:  but  La  Cerda  is  not  right.  The  Captain  is  merely 
jesting :  humor,  it  is  not  to  be  forgotten,  is  a  marked  feature  in  his  men- 
tal physiognomy,  as  he  himself  has  given  us  to  understand,  and  tells  us 
directly  in  v.  388  -  390,  below.         *  * 


100  THC   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

For  the  deal  planks  no  swart  defacement  bear.       370 
Nor  the  gray  worm  has  dar'd  to  burrow  there. 
Fast  was  the  door  ;   the  key  might  not  be  found  ; 
No  window  gap'd  ;   but,  far  above  the  ground, 
Mysteriously  dark,  a  large  square  hole 
Frown'd  into  awe  your  brother's  boding  soul.  375 

Alas  !  (I  thought),  the  place  where,  living,  fresh, 
Poor  nuns  are  purg'd,  for  sins  done  in  the  flesh  : 
And  Ah!  — I  cry 'd,  — dark  nymphs,  what  have  ye  here? 
See  in  MoxNk's  book,  where,  mark'd  by  this  dog's-ear. 
The  very  spot!     Now,  by  my  hopes  of  glory,         3S0 
I  '11  mount  yon  stool,  and  scale  your  purgatory  ! 

What !  —  said  Serin,  —  such  doubts  upon  us  cast  ? 
Sisters,  this  saint  is  but  a  man  at  last ! 
A  man  ?  Ah  no  !   those  eyes  repel  the  charge  ; 
Soft  as  a  cow's,  though  nothing  near  so  large  !       385 
And  yet,  methinks  a  little  twinkler  there 
Warns  us  of  malice,  by  his  merry  glare. 

That  's  wit,  my  dear ;  the  ray  of  humor  fine. 
That  makes  me  known  and  needed  where  I  dine,  — 


Ver.  372-375.  — the  key  might  not  be  found;  —  JVo  unnduto  gap''d ; 
etc.]  See  in  the  Visit  the  account  of  the  "  square  hole  "  "  high  up 
from  the  floor,"  which  the  glorious  hero  mistook  for  "  the  '  purgatory ' 
as  laid  down  in  Maria  Monk's  book,"  and  which  he  "had  been  diligently 
looking  for."  They  would  not  give  him  the  keys  of  the  place.  Where- 
upon the  enthusiastic  soldier,  with  an  intrepidity  worthy  of  more  success, 
scaled  the  fortress.  "  Taking  a  chair,"  says  the  modern  Don  Q,uixote, 
"  I  thereupon  climbed  up  to  the  dark  hole,  and  thrusting  my  head 
through,  ttc."        *  * 


CANTO   SECOND.  101 

The  merry  hoij  !  that  dear  buffoon,  Rubeta!  390 

And  by  some  other  names  of  love  still  sweeter  : 
No  malice,  no !   believe  me  ;  for  I  am, 
Though  lionlike,  as  meek  as  any  lamb. 
Yet  must  I  mount !  there  's  peril  in  yon  wall ; 
And  when  on  me  in  vain  did  Peril  call  ?  395 

Once,  I  had  sworn  to  hunt  to  death  a  flea. 
Six  hours  I  cours'd  him,  over  thigh  and  knee  ; 
Till,  brought  to  bay,  fell'd  by  a  mighty  thwack, 
The  monster  paid  with  life  my  jjlunder'd  back. 
Judge  by  this  feat  what  resolution  lies  400 

Here,  in  this  heart,  despite  my  tender  eyes  ! 

This  said,  I  drew  the  perforated  stool 
Close  to  the  wall,  plumb  underneath  the  hole. 
But,  as  thereon  I  set  one  nervous  foot, 
BoiTEUSE  limp'd  up,  and  pluck'd  me  by  the  coat,  405 


Ver.  405,  406.  BoiTEUSE  limp''d  up  and  plucked  me  by  the  coat,  —  ^nd 
sobb''d,  and  said :  O  too  courageous  saint .']  So  Andromache  en- 
deavors to  deter  Hector  : 

^uifiovn,  <p6iffii  ffi  TO  ffov  fiivo;. 

11.  vi.  405-407. 
But  as  the  peril  which  Rubeta  is  about  to  encounter  was  far  greater 
than  that  which  menaced  Hector,  and  the  occasion  thereof  much  more 
important,  so  does  the  gentle  Boiteuse  far  surpass  the  daughter  of 
Eetion  in  the  argument,  equally  unsuccessful,  with  which  she  endeavors 
to  move  that  chieftain  :  for  the  latter  lady  detains  her  lord  to  listen  to 
an  account  of  her  family,  which  must  have  been  familiar  enough  to  him 
already ;  the  former  tells  a  story  which  Rubeta  could  not  previously 
know:   Andromache   urges  Hector  to  spare  himself  for  her  sake, 


102  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

And  sobb'd,  and  said  :  O  too  courageous  saint ! 

Climb  not  you  wall,  unless  you'd  have  me  faint. 

Think  what  awaits  you,  if  your  hold  should  fail ; 

Bruis'd,  haply  lam'd,  with  me  to  tell  the  tale ! 

Me  ?  Poor  Boiteuse  !  'T  was  on  Christ's  hoiyfite^ 

Some  years  by-gone  :  I  know  not  well  the  date  :    411 

But  I  was  little  then  ;  and  sound,  and  gay. 

My  mother  put  a  currant-pie  away, 

In  a  close  room,  with  window  like  yon  square, 

And  begg'd  her  darling  not  to  venture  there.  415 

Unhappy  I,  that  did  not  mind  her  pray'r ! 

That  hour  which  drew  the  dame  to  solemn  mass 

Saw  Boiteuse  to  the  fatal  chamber  pass. 

She  mounts  a  chair ;  the  window  was  not  high  ; 

Close  to  the  sill  repos'd  the  tempting  pie ;  420 

A  small  round  hole,  by  old  establish'd  use, 

Smiling  midway  the  crust,  replete  with  juice. 

Just  as,  with  head  askance,  heart  throbbing  quicker, 

I  thrust  one  finger  in,  to  taste  the  liquor. 

The  false  chair  slid,  my  hand  forsook  the  tart,        425 

And  Boiteuse  lay  deform'd  past  reach  of  art. 

which  was  undoubtedly  very  selfish  ;  Boiteuse  entreats  her  Captain 
for  his  own,  and  thereunto  applies  a  sort  of  argumentum  ad  hominem, 
which  must  have  had  great  effect,  had  not  Glory  blown  her  bugle  in  his 
oars,  and  chivalrous  daring  fortified  his  heart  against  the  assaults  of 
Prudence.  Ah!  had  but  Andromache  been  Boiteuse,  Hector  per- 
haps were  still  alive,  and  Trot,  Troy  would  have  stood  despite  the 
gods  and  mythologic  Bryant.        *  * 


CANTO   SECOND.  103 

Be  warn'd  in  time  :  O  sir,  't  will  never  do 
To  have  but  two  good  legs  between  us  two ! 

You  preach  in  vain,  I  said  :   No  mournful  tale 
Shall  make  this  heart  of  seven-fold  calfskin  (juall.  430 
But  speak,  my  deeds  !  — Unhand  me,  maids  !  1  '11  on, 
Nor  further  waste  discourse  :  the  days  are  gone, 
When  heroes  ere  they  battled  play'd  bow-wow : 
No  bard  of  seven  cities  fiddles  now. 

With  pride  I  spoke  :  and  Pride  's  forbid  to  shine,  435 
Though  that  her  perch  were  higher  crest  than  mine. 
Heedless,  kind  Boiteuse,  of  thy  warning  fall, 
Blind  to  my  fate,  I  clomb  the  wooden  wall. 
Ah,  Father  Richards  !  hadst  thou  thither  come, 
Perch'd  on  Serin's  or  Leucorrhea's  thumb,        44u 
Thy  wing  fatidical  had  brush'd  our  brow. 
And  a  new  omen  sav'd  me  whole  as  now ! 


Ver.  429,  430.  You  preach  in  vain,  1  said:  no  mournful  tale  —  Sliall 
make,  etc.]  How  does  this  agree  with  what  he  has  said  of  himself  in 
V.  392,  393,  as  well  as  in  other  places  ?  Well  enough.  His  habitual 
bearing  is  mild,  his  temper  on  ordinary  occasions  meek  as  any  lamVs ; 
but,  when  resolution  is  required,  then  the  heroic  chief  shakes  oif  these 
gentler  virtues  "like  dew-drops  from  a  lion's  mane,"  and  is  indeed,  as 
he  himself  says,  "  lionlike."        *  * 

431,  432.  —  /  HI  on,  —  JVor  further  icaste  discourse —  ]  Here  the 
superiority  of  our  hero  to  the  bulwark  of  Trot  is  very  evident.  Hec- 
tor talks  some  five-and-twenty  lines  in  reply  to  A>'dromache,  and 
shows  himself  a  tender  husband  as  a  doughty  hero  :  but  Rubeta,  more 
impatient  for  action,  cuts  short  all  topics  with  a  Hotspur-energy,  and 
subdues  the  softness  of  his  gentler  spirit  to  show  himself  the  thorough 
hero.        *  * 


104  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

My  hands  were  in  the  gap,  my  right  foot  prest 

Prone  on  the  open  cover  of  the  chest, 

When,  as  I  gathcr'd  force,  with  breath  constrain'd,  445 

And  deem'd  my  glorious  purpose  almost  gaiii'd, 

As  proudly  scann'd  my  eye  the  slippery  way, 

A  wanton  novice  drew  the  stool  away. 

Ah,  noble  peers  !  dear  brother- worms  of  wit ! 

The  rest  how  shall  I  speak  in  accents  fit !  450 

As  struggling  to  ascend,  afraid  to  fall, 

I  hung,  'twixt  earth  and  heav'n,  and  kick'd  the  wall, 

My  rebel  braces  (not  like  these  I  wear ; 

But  darn'd  and  splic'd,  a  venerable  pair  !) 

Gave  way  :  O  God  !  the  ravell'd  ends  escape,        455 

And  lo !  reveal'd  to  light,  my  nether  shape  ! 

So  look'd  old  Troy,  when  fell  her  ramparts  down, 

And  bar'd  to  Grecian  eyes  the  unseemly  town. 

Ver.  441.  —  the  open  cover  of  the  chesl,'\  This  phrase  helps  us  to  ex- 
plain an  expression  in  v.  402 ;  "  the  perforated  stool."  The  prop  in 
question  was  of  the  order  of  stools  known  as  close ;  its  present  position, 
"  open,"  with  the  lid  leaning  upright  against  the  wall.         *  * 

455.  —  raveWd  ■ —  ]  In  the  sense  in  which  Shakspeare  uses  it  in 
this  line :  "  Sleep  which  knits  up  the  ravell'd  sleeve  of  care."  And  it 
is  so  employed  throughout  the  volume.         *  * 

457,  45S,  So  looWd  old  Troy,  when  fell  her  ramparts  doicn,  —  ^nd  bar^d 
to  Grecian  eyes  the  unseemly  totvn.] 

Si  licet  excmplis  in  parvo  grandibus  uti, 
HcEc  facics  Trojoe,  cum  caperctur,  erat. 

Ovid.  Trist.  i.  Eleg.  iii. 

Commentators  are  not  agreed  from  what  sources  the  learned  hero 
derives  this  knowledge  of  the  domestic  condition  of  the  capital  of  Priam; 
though  some  pretend  to  say  it  is  merely  an  allusion :  to  wliat  ?  in  tlie 


CANTO  SECOND  105 

Then,  shame-struck,  blushing,  loudly  did  I  cry  :  — 
Run,  holy  maids  !  Don't  peep ;  or  I  shall  die  !        4co 

As  the  dry  leaves  in  eddies  circle  round, 
When  winds  autumnal  sweep  the  wooded  ground  ; 
As  rushes  up  the  flue  the  smother  fast. 
When  on  the  fire  the  recent  faggot  's  cast : 
As  spring  the  quails  on  whirring  pinion  slant,  4G5 

When  the  keen  setter  snuffs  their  cover'd  haunt ; 


name  of  Civility  be  it  asked.  To  Saturday-night,  says  my  Uncle 
Toby.  But  whether  the  critic  consider  Toby's  ready  answer  "  a  plain 
subterfuge  "  or  not,  't  is  certain  that  the  Poet  would  be  greatly  in- 
censed did  he  know  of  this  uncivil  attempt  to  soil  the  honor  of  his 
hero. 

We  have  just  lighted  on  an  old  Scholiast  who  asks,  if  the  town 
might  not  be  considered  as  unseemly,  simply  for  being  denuded  of  its 
outward  defences,  and  these  lying  a  confused  heap  at  its  heels  as  it 
were.  An  excellent  gloss,  which  clears  up  the  difficulty  and  makes  the 
affair  clean  at  once.         *  * 

459,  460.  Then,  shame-struck,  blushing,  loudly  did  I  cry  :  —  Run,  holy 
maids !  DonH  peep  ;  or  I  shall  die !  ]  The  modesty  of  the  Brace- 
betrayed  is  only  equalled  by  that  of  the  husband  of  Penelope,  who, 
when  the  handmaids  of  Nausicaa  wait  to  see  him  bathe,  sings  out 
lustily  to  them  :  Get  out  of  the  ivay,  girls  ;  —  it  isn't  decent ;  I  positively 
tvont  strip  before  such  nice  young  loomcn  ;  premising,  by  way  I  suppose 
of  consoling  them  for  the  deprivation,  the  fact,  that  it  was  a  long  time 
since  he  ^d  had  a  good  cleaning  .- 

'  A  fii,  <P  i  «  0  X  0  I,   ff  rri  ^'    e  li  r  at     aVo-r^oSiv,   o^j'  lyu  ccuroi 
"AXfifiv   ufiotii   a7roXoC(Tof/.a,i,   ifi^)   o     IXaiai 

'Kplfffofiai  '     rt    y  a  ^    S>jjov    a  'TT  o    X  Z  "  °  ^     l  cr  r  i  v    a  X  o  i  <()  '/). 
"AvT»y    3'    0  V  X,    a.  V    'i  y  u  y  i    XoiiriTOf^oe.i'     ai'Biafiai    y  a.  ^ 
TufiveZff^ai,    K  0  6  Q  n  ff  I  V    iiJvXoKa.fioiffi    fitriXicav. 

Orfj/s*.  vi.218-222.        ** 

461,  etc.  As  the  dry  leaves,  etc.]     Tlie  first  two  similes  express  the 
rapidity,  the  last  two  the  noise  and   confusion,  of  the   flight   of  the 
women  from  the  scene  of  the  hero's  exposure.        *  * 
14 


106  THE   VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

As  pilfering  schoolboys  from  an  orchard  fly, 

When  o'er  the  hedge  grim  lowers  the  owner's  eye  : 

So  hurriedly,  all  mingled  in  their  fright, 

Nuns,  novices,  and  spinners,  urge  the  flight.  470 

With  various  clamor;  scream,  and  laugh,  and  shriek. 

Here  push  the  strong,  and  there  recede  the  weak. 

My  face  was  to  the  wall,  I  could  not  see  ; 

But  such  the  scene  my  ears  described  to  me. 

And  more,  a  novice  thus  expressed  her  thought : —  475 

The  nasty  beast !    to  wear  a  shirt  so  short ! 

Then  all  was  still.     Wo  's  me  !     I  could  not  rise. 
I  durst  not  drop :  the  fall  had  broke  my  thighs. 
Chill  blows  the  air.      I  curse  my  painful  weight ; 
Then  praise  the  Lord,  and  moralize  my  state  :  —  480 


Ver.  475.  —  a  novice  thus  expressed  her  thought  ■•]  It  is  asked,  how,  if 
his  face  was  to  the  wall,  he  could  know  that  the  speaker  was  a  novice  ? 
It  is  answered,  that  he  probably  recognised  the  voice.  Bayle  says, 
RuBETA  supposed  it  was  such  a  thought  as  only  a  novice  would  ex- 
press.       *  * 

479,  480.  Chill  bloivs  the  air  ;  I  curse  my  painful  weight, —  Then  praise 
the  Lord,  and  moralize  my  state  :]  How  truly  philosophical  must  be 
the  cliaracter  which  can  moralize  in  such  a  predicament !  the  cold  air 
blowing  with  peculiar  severity  upon  his  naked  part,  from  the  shortness 
of  the  curtain  noticed  by  the  observing  novice,  and  his  heavy  weight 
bearing  incessantly  upon  his  wrists  and  arms.  There  is  indeed  a 
commentator,  who  declares  that  no  state  could  be  so  favorable  to  phi- 
losophical reflection  as  that  of  Rdbeta;  for  men  arc  never  so  well  dis- 
posed to  tliink  seriously  as  after  a  cold  air-bath ;  and  that  pain  and 
shame  are  excellent  promoters  of  the  same  agreeable  disposition.  The 
learned  Gymnosophos  may  be  right ;  but  we  insist  upon  it,  that  no  man 
but  our  hero  could  cool  himself  to  so  much  purpose.  Besides,  look  at 
his  piety.  His  first  feeling  is  to  curse  his  ponderosity ;  but,  instantly 
correcting  himself,  he  praises  Heaven.     If  it  would  not  be  thought 


CANTO  SECOND.  107 

Now  well  I  see  man  never  may  be  blest 
With  perfect  fortune,  or  unbroken  rest ! 
What  though  the  Sun  unclouded  shine  to-day, 
To-morrow  storms  shall  gather  round  his  way  : 
For  1,  whose  planet  promis'd  fame  and  riches,       485 
Now  see  all  slipp'd  with  these  confounded  breeches. 
Ah,  happy,  had  I  worn  my  hose  more  small ! 
Still  happier,  had  I  worn  no  hose  at  all, 
Whelp'd  on  those  hills  where  gallant  men  their  thighs 
Conceal  in  philabegs  from  maidens'  eyes,  490 

Or,  suckled  with  the  she-wolf's  bloody  young, 
Wore  rags  with  Pindar  while  a  Horace  sung, 

profane  in  us,  we  could  almost  fancy  the  very  words  with  which  this 
great  and  good  man  would  solace  his  affliction  as  he  looked  down  upon 
his  fallen  integuments :  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  taketh  away : 
blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord !     {See  latter  part  of  note  to  v.  553.) 

481,  482.  JVow  well  I  see  man  never  may  be  blest —  With  perfect  fortune, 
etc.]     Pindar  has  nearly  the  same  reflection  with  Rujbeta  : 

To  0   &- 

"Ttcctov  i^^iTai  "jrav- 

t)  (ioerZ.      Oiijinp.  i.  159.  Heyne:  Lond.  1823. 
And  in  Ode  ii.  of  the  same,  v.  55, 

Hroi 

BgoriJii  xixpiTai 

*         #         * 

'Oron,  "Ttalo'  ' KXiov, 
'Arti^iT  irhv  aya^M 

TlXlVTOLffOfJily. 

A  sentiment  so  very  singular  it  is  not  likely  could  originate  with  two 
great  men;  and  Pindar  has  the  priority.         ** 

492.  Wore  rags  with   Pindam  while  a  Horace  sung,']      Read   unhesi- 
tatingly : 

"  Wore  rags  with  CiESAR,  where  a  Virgil  sung." 

We  need  scarcely  add,  that  by  wearing  rags  the   erudite   Rubeta 


108  TMK    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Or,  like  my  Adam,  of  whose  vocal  flow'rs 

I  lectur'd  to  the  fair  in  happier  hours, 

Stalk'd  undegraded  by  a  tailor's  shears,  495 

And  grac'd  the  figleaf  which  Apollo  wears. 

In  days  when  men  had  tails,  and  joy'd  to  browse, 

And  show'd  their  navels  even  to  their  cows. 

This  ill  for  thee  I  bear,  ador'd  Renown  ! 

This,  this,  proclaims  me,  sun-ey'd  Gold,  thy  own  !  ^oo 

Others,  thus  plac'd,  another  cause  might  plead. 

And  boast  the  love  of  truth.     Of  truth,  indeed! 

For  me,  sufficient  men  shall  read  my  name  : 

I  'd  murder  Truth  at  any  time  for  fame. 


means  to  express  the  cloths  with  which  his  favorite  unbreeched  Romans 
swathed  their  thighs  and  legs ;  at  least  the  effeminate  of  them,  and  the 
valetudinary ;  for  Horace  classes  these  fascia  among  the  insignia 
morbi,  and  Cicero  mentions  them  along  with  medicamenta.        *  * 

493,  494.  —  Adam,  of  ichose  vocal  Jlow^rs  —  /  lectured  to  the  fair  tjf 
happier  houys,]  Tliose  who  had  the  happiness  of  attending  tlie  Lec- 
tures of  the  great  Captain  before  the  "Mercantile  Library  Association" 
of  New  York,  in  the  winter  of  1837,  will  remember  with  particular  pleas- 
ure with  what  eloquence  and  feeling  he  told  how  Adaji  talked  to  Eve 
by  means  of  bachelors'-buttons  and  ladyslippers.         *  * 

496.  — the  figleaf  which  Apollo  ivears,]  Here  the  various  Rubeta 
gives  us  the  first  inkling  of  that  eminent  knowledge  of  sculpture  for 
which  he  is  so  justly  celebrated  in  the  4th  Canto.         *  * 

604,  505.  I  W  murder  Truth  at  any  time  for  fame ;  —  [Jf'itness,  ye  columns 
of  viy  nightly  press !)  ]  See  the  examples  cited  in  illustration  of  the 
24Gth  verse  of  Canto  iii.,  and  which  Ave  in  this  place  refer  to,  not  as 
particular  instances  of  Rubeta's  readiness  to  do  any  dirty  job  for  the 
sake  of  notoriety,  (for  such,  we  should  give  the  general  reference,  "See 
his  journal  passim,'^ )  but  of  his  utter  disregard  of  the  divinity  of  truth, 
arising  from  a  laxity  of  moral  principle,  (of  which  we  have  given  a 
striking  evidence  in  tiie  4th  Canto,  and  shall  one  day  present 
ANOTHER  still  MORE    CONVINCING,  to  pcrhaps   tliB   astonishment  of 


CANTO  SECOND.  109 

(Witness,  ye  columns  of  my  nightly  press !)  M5 

More  who  would  do  for  Fame  ?    Who  could  do  less  ? 
Truth  is  no  real  good.     Can  truth  be  eat  ? 
Feels  it  or  warm  or  cold,  or  dry  or  wet  ? 
Ideal  virtue  then  :  just  none,  or  worse. 
But  fame,  which  glads   my  heart,  the  well-stock'd 
purse,  nio 

Which  finds  me  bellytimber,  these  are  goods ; 
And,  who  for  these  brooks  Fortune's  sullen  moods, 
As  much  a  martyr,  as  who,  free  from  sin, 
Roasts  like  a  woodcock  with  his  entrails  in. 
What  makes  the  martyr  ?     Surely  not  the  pain.      515 
Rouse  up,  my  soul !  nor  be  thou  great  in  vain. 

many,)  arising,  we  say,  from  a  laxity  of  moral  principle,  and  that  med- 
dling, gossiping  disposition,  which  is  a  peculiar  characteristic  of  this 
"lively  dunce." 

Qafiitci  xccxayi^Ms. 

Which  the  Colonel  may  translate,  if  he  please,  by  referring  to  his  Bible  : 
Exodus,  xxiii.  1. 

516.  Rouse  up,  my  soul !  etc.]  Admirable !  Here,  indeed,  we  have 
the  true  spirit  of  this  most  extraordinary  man.  Following  up  his  argu- 
ments, that,  in  suffering  suspension  in  a  state  of  demi-nudity,  he  is 
truly  a  martyr  to  the  cause  of  honor,  he  says,  it  is  not  the  pain  endured 
which  makes  the  martyr,  but  (as  he  shows  below)  the  cause  for  which ; 
the  idea  of  pain  reminds  him  of  his  arms  and  wrists,  and  feeling  proba- 
bly that  his  courage  was  sinking  at  this  recollection  of  his  sufferings, 
he  calls  upon  his  spirit  to  rouse  herself,  and  show  in  act  the  greatness 
which  she  owned ;  for  pain,  he  adds,  is  nothing  to  the  wise,  etc.  etc. 
Would  tliat  our  commendation  might  be  unqualified  !  but  we  are  obliged 
to  declare  to  the  reader  our  solemn  opinion  that  this  whole  passage, 
commencing  at  v.  503  (and  including  of  course  the  preceding  note)  is  an 

*  Find.  Olymp.i.  84.        ** 


110  THE    VISION    OF   RUBETA. 

Shall  the  wise  sj)irit  falter?     Stripp'd  as  1, 
And  plac'd,  unshelter'd,  'iieath  a  winter's  sky, 
Astride  upon  an  icicle's  sharp  cone, 
The  sage,  with  brow  erect,  untaught  to  groan,        520 
Would  cry  :     "  Delightful  seat !    The  Virgin  warms  ! 
What  melting  transport  in  her  genial  arms !  " 
Fools,  cowards,  suffer  pain ;  the  wise  and  brave 
Smile  at  the  wreck,  and  float  on  fortune's  wave. 

interpolation  ! !  for  the  opinions  here  forced  into  the  mouth  of  Rubeta 
arc  the  very  doctrines  of  the  Epicurkans,  a  sect  to  which  we  never 
can  believe  so  intellectual  and  transcendental  a  spirit  could  belong.      *  * 

517,  518.  —  Stripped  as  I,  —  Jltid  placed,  etc.]  Kav  (rri^iSxM^^  S"  «'  <r«^of, 
tlvai  avTov  ivia.i[/.ova.     Dogma  Epicuri  ap.  Laert.  juxla  ed.  Cusauh.  1G15. 

"Affirmat  [EpicurusJ  quodam  loco  :  Si  uratur  sapiens,  si  crucietiir ;  — 
expectas  fortasse  dum  dicat,  Patielur,  perferet,  non  succumbd :  magna 
mehercule  laus,  et  eo  ipso  per  quem  juravi  Hercule  digna:  sed  Epicuro, 
homini  aspero  et  duro,  non  est  hoc  satis ;  —  In  Phalaridis  tauro  si  crit, 
died,  '  (^uam  suave  est  hoc !  quam  hoc  non  euro!''''''  Cic.  Tusc.  Disp. 
lib.  ii.  7. 

Every  system  of  philosophy  has  a  tendency  to  run  into  extremes,  and 
to  get  abstracted  beyond  common  sense :  and  the  school  of  Epicurus 
but  shares  the  fate  of  other  sects  in  affording  somewhere  matter  of 
mirth  and  ridicule  to  its  antagonists. 

Of  Rubeta  we  may  add,  that  it  is  not  pretended  to  put  into  his 
mouth,  even  for  the  purpose  of  mockery,  tlie  dogmas  of  any  particular 
philosophy  ;  for  it  is  the  peculiar  happiness  of  such  persons  to  combine 
in  their  essence  the  absurdities  of  every  system  without  having  perhaps 
so  much  as  heard  the  names  of  any  one  of  them. 

If  we  had  any  doubts  before  about  the  adulteration  of  tlie  text,  they  are  put  to  rest 
by  tlie  above  comment,  wliich,  like  the  verses  it  refers  to,  we  consider  nothing  of  the 
Author's.        *  * 

521.  The  Virgin  ivarms!'\     That  is  :     It  is  now  the  month  of  August. 

*  » 

623,  524.  Fools,  cotvards,  suffer  pain;  the  ivise  and  brave  —  Smile  at 
{he  wreck,  and  jJ oat  on  fortune'' s  ivave.^     — To  J'S/ov  Im  toZ  kyaSoZ  (pi\i7t 

(iiv   Ktt)   a,(rxi'C,tirfa.i    ra   ffu/LcSaivmra,    xai   ffuynkcu^ofitvct    auru.        M.    AnTOIS'INI, 

De  rebus  ad  se  pertinent,  iii.  ](j.  ed.  Gat.  4to.  Lond.  1()97. 

Here  Rubeta  is  himself  again,  and  we  may  accordingly  consider 


CANTO  SECOND.  Ill 

Let  Hercules  go  whine  ;  Rubeta's  tears  525 

Flow  but  for  women  ;  and  his  heels  spurn  fears. 
Mind,  mind,  keeps  warm  the  shivering  case  of  dirt. 
Lord  of  itself,  despite  too  scant  a  shirt ! 
Yet,  (for  the  flesh  is  weak,)  methinks  I  tire. 
And  fain  would  spare  this  cost  of  inward  fire: —  530 
O  thou  !  whose  charms  the  limping  son  of  Jove 
Caught,  naked  as  this  rump,  in  chains  he  wove, 


the  text  from  this  place  genuine,  although  it  is  true,  that  the  heroic 
sentiments  it  delivers  belong  as  much  to  Epicurus  as  to  the  Stoics, 
if  Ave  except  the  single  line  about  fortune,  Avhich  tlie  sage  of  Epicu- 
rus is  made  to  resist  {tu^^  rt  ocvriraliir^at.)  See  Diogenes  Laertius  in 
tlie  Life  of  this  philosopher ;  especially  that  fine  passage  of  the  Letter 
of  Epicurus  to  Menceceus,  which  marks  the  difference  of  his  doctrine 
from  the  Cyrenaics'  and  refutes  the  calumny  of  his  enemies:    "Orav  oZv 

Xiyoftiv   iSovJjy   r'lXo;    V'Ta^^iTv,   oh  ras  ruv  oLauriav   ^Savaj,   *.  T.  A.      p.  791,  tdit. 

Causahoni.     Genev.  1(J]  5.  *  * 

625.  Let  Hercules  go  ivhine  —  ]  "  Sed  videamus  Herculem  ipsum, 
qui  tum  dolore  frangebatur,  quum  immortal itatem  ipsa  morte  quserebat. 
Quas  hie  voces  apud  Sophoclem  in  Trachiniis  edit ! "     Tusc.  Disp.  ii.  8. 

Rubeta's  intimacy  Avith  Cicero  is  matter  of  notoriety.  And  Ave 
confess  that  this  fact,  taken  Avith  the  passage  Ave  are  noAv  upon,  throAvs 
us  back  into  our  doubts  Avhether  the  text  may  not  be  pure  after  all. 
Let  us  say  that  the  inconsistencies  it  betrays  mark  the  struggles  of  a 
great  mind  Avrestling  Avith  pain,  and  obliged  at  the  end  to  yield.  "  Ego 
tantam  vim  non  tribuo  sapienti  contra  dolorem."  Then  elegantly  adds 
the  author  just  cited  :  "  Sit  fortis  in  perferendo  :  satis  est :  ut  Isetetur 
etiam,  non  postulo."     [Tusc.  Disp.  7.)         ** 

625,526.  — Rubeta's  tears  —  Floiv  but  for  loomen  —  ]  A  glorious  im- 
provement this,  (the  reservation  of  the  Avise  man's  tenderness  for 
women,)  upon  the  exemption  from  grief  of  the  Epicurean.         *  * 

526.  —  and  his  heels  spurn  fears :  ]  Though  in  danger  and  suspense 
RuBETA  still  regards  himself  as  the  Convent's  champion  under  the  em- 
blematical figure  presented  to  the  abbess  in  her  dream.  Such  is  his 
just  sense  of  the  dignity  of  this  visionary  transformation,  that  he  is 
knoAvn  to  speak  in  that  exalted  character  even  in  ordinary  matters : 


112  THE  VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

When  tittering  Pallas  from  the  chamber  run, 

And  Juno  bhish'd  to  see  herself  outdone ; 

Whose  Medicean  form  enchants  my  eye  535 

In  ev'ry  petticoat  which  wriggles  by  ; 

Whose  altars  blaze  in  each  nice  thing  I  've  writ, 

Stain'd  by  no  passing  touch  of  sense  or  wit ; 

Goddess  !  if  I  thy  colors  long  have  worn, 

And  serv'd  thy  cause  by  printing  Dr.  Home,  54o 

(Though  others,  as  Petronius,  't  is  true 

Have  (not  my  fault)  much  more  that  way  to  do,) 

O  send  some  vot'ry  of  thy  genial  pow'r, 

Whose  hand  may  give  me  ease  in  this  dark  hour  ! 

Assist  me,  if  my  beauties  bear  inspection ;  545 

For,  should  I  drop,  they  'd  take  a  new  complexion ! 

witness  the  following  citation  from  his  journal  hy  a  correspondent  of 
the  N,  Y.  American's  : 

"'As  to  that  vile  combination  of  words,'  (is  being  purchased,)  'we  spurn  it  7m7/i 
our  heels.'     [Memorable  quotations  from  the  Commercial.]  " 

The  beauty  of  this  original  metaphor,  has,  we  think,  no  rival.         *  * 
633.  —  tiltering  Pallas  from  the   chamber  run,]      The  learned   hero 

differs  here  from  Homer,  who  tells  us  expressly  the  goddesses  were 

not  there  : 

"  But  modesty  withheld  the  goddess-train."    (Pope.) 

Supposing  that  the  infallible  Rubeta  has  good  authority  for  what  he 
says,  we  may  remark  that  he  appears  to  be  drawing,  though  with  his 
usual  modesty,  a  parallel  between  his  own  naked  charms  and  those  of 
Vends.*     Minerva  runs  from  the  chamber  like  one  of  his  novices. 

*  Wliy  not  of  31ars  ?      Corrector. 


CANTO   SECOND.  ]  13 

The  goddess  heard.     The  sound  of  coming  feet 
Thrills  on  my  ear  ;  my  pulses  quicker  beat ; 
And  PuTAiN  lo !  (I  look'd  at  her  askew :) 
First  on  each  lily  hand  a  glove  she  drew,  sso 

Then,  moving  backward,  spread  her  modest  arms. 
And  coupled  with  her  own  my  naked  charms. 
So  when  the  patriarch,  at  noon  of  day, 
Stretch'd  in  his  tent,  fatigued,  unconscious  lay, 
The  pious  brothers,  with  averted  head,  555 

Soft  o'er  his  limbs  their  mother's  nightgown  spread. 

But  PuTAiN,  ah  !   she  sinks  beneath  my  weight ! 
Borne  on  her  back,  I  more  than  share  her  fate : 


Ver.  553.  So  when  the  patriarch,  etc]  We  may  note  the  exactitude 
of  the  learned  and  pious  Rubeta  in  this  simile.  The  word  ishecher, 
which  is  translated  in  our  Bibles  drunken,  does  not  indeed  imply  so 
high  a  state  of  intoxication,  but  means  what  we  vulgarly  call  fuddled, 
or,  as  the  Rev.  Mr.  Herries  has  it,  a  little  disguised  in  liquor.  The 
reverent  delicacy  with  which  Rubeta  renders  it  fatigued  is  quite 
characteristic  of  the  hero.  The  source  from  which  he  has  been 
enabled  to  derive  the  precise  nature  of  the  garment  which  Shem  and 
Japheth  threw  over  their  centenarian  sire,  is,  like  that  of  many  other 
points  of  Rubeta's  vast  knowledge,  totally  unknown  lo  us. 

We  may  observe,  that  this  great  hero,  and  "  evangelical  Christian," 
is  remarkably  fond  of  citing  from  the  sacred  Scriptures,  even  on  occa- 
sions of  pleasantry.  This  practice,  which  Avere  justly  censured  as 
profaneness  in  you  or  me,  is  only  piety  in  such  a  man  : 

For  saints  may  do  the  same  things  by 
The  spirit,  in  sincerity, 
Which  other  men  are  tempted  to, 
And  at  the  devil's  instance  do  ; 
And  yet  the  actions  be  contrary. 
Just  as  the  saints  and  wicked  vary. 

Hudib.  Pt.  ii.  Canto  ii.  235  -  240.         ♦  * 
1.5 


114  THE   VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

As  our  limbs  justle,  tangled  in  the  fright, 

0  God  !  her  elbow  smote  my  orb  of  sight !  5G0 
Then  flash'd  the  living  lightning  from  the  wound ; 
My  senses  swim  ;  the  chamber  floats  around  ; 

1  grope,  and  strive  to  rise,  but  sink  upon  the  ground. 

'T  was  then,  call'd  in  by  my  terrific  roar, 
(For  never  bull  of  Bashan  bellow'd  more !)  5C5 

The  brides  of  Heav'n  and  spinners  round  me  pour. 
One  shrieks  for  vinegar  ;  another  cries,  — 
The  laud'num,    quick  !  —  God   bless  me !    both   his 

eyes ! 
And  questions  follow  close  :  —  How  came  he  hurt  ? 
And  lo !   our  sister's  habit,  gray  with  dirt  !  570 

And  words  of  pity  :  then  thy  voice,  Fretille  ;  — 
St.  Agnes  !  look  ;  the  saint  's  unbutton'd  still ! 
This  stirr'd  my  liver.     Painfully  I  rose. 
My  shirt  had  once  more  knitted,  with  my  hose, 

Vcr.  568.  • —  God  bless  me  !  both  his  eyes  .']  Bayle,  in  his  account  of 
RuBETA,  takes  this  as  a  serious  assertion,  and  asks,  how  Putain's  elbow 
could  manage  to  bruise  both  eyes  at  once.  He  did  not  see  that  it 
was  a  natural  effect  of  the  nun's  alarm,  when  she  beheld  the  hero 
spread  upon  the  floor  with  both  his  eyes  shut  (a  voluntary  exclusion 
of  light  which  we  imagine  is  implied  in  line  563,  "I  grope";  though 
indeed  this  expression  may  merely  mean,  that  he  was  in  the  dark  from 
the  immediate  consequence  of  the  blow,  namely,  the  quantity  of  water 
which  was  pouring  from  the  offended  organ,  as  he  says,  below  (v.  584), 
the  fountains  of  his  eye.)         *  * 

673.  This  stirred  my  liver,  etc.]  According  to  philosophers,  the  liver 
is  the  seat  of  the  animal  passions.  Hence  the  observation  of  Fretille 
more  particularly  affects  the  hero,  from  the  interest  her  beauty  and 
amiability  hud  excited  in  tliat  organ  of  his  greatest  susceptibility. 

Servius. 

JVugft  Serviana.        *  * 


CANTO   SECOND.  115 

Their  ancient  league  of  mutual  protection  ;  575 

The  braces  dangled  still  in  false  bisection ; 
Hing'd  by  the  waistband-buttons,  downwards  swung 
Their  parallel  sides,  and  to  each  kneepan  hung. 
Thus  gap'd  an  interstice,  'twixt  hose  and  vest, 
Where  my  loose  under-garment  swell'd  confest.     580 
In  vain  the  modest  broadcloth  up  I  drew ; 
Each  moment  gave  more  shirt-tail  to  the  view. 
I  rose,  and,  blushing  like  an  orient  sky, 
Op'd  to  the  light  the  fountains  of  my  eye. 
Now  the  kind  nymphs  their  vinegar  apply.  585 

And  O  !  (I  urg'd,)  whose  starry  orbs,  I  own, 
Shine  with  more  light  than  ever  mine  yet  shone. 
Thy  hussif  bring,  and  let  the  steel  reknit 
These  pendent  rags.     What  honor,  to  refit 
That  fork'd  concern,  of  cloth  and  tailor's  stitches,  590 
Maids  never  mention,  but  which  men  call  breeches  ! 
I  said.     'T  is  done.     Two  spinners  gently  guide 
The  ravell'd  netting  o'er  my  shoulders  wide. 

Ver.  678.  —  to  each  kneepan  hung.]  Mad.  Dacier  here  enters  into 
a  long  disquisition  as  to  the  length  of  the  braces,  which,  she  remarks, 
must  either  have  been  monstrous,  or  else  the  hero  must  have  had  very 
short  thighs ;  and  that  in  either  case  he  probably  wore  his  indispensa- 
bles  very  loose ;  and  so  on,  and  so  on  :  all  of  which  she  might  have 
gathered  from  the  context;  for  example,  v.  487.  Eustathius  and 
others,  on  the  contrary,  derive  a  different  conclusion  from  the  sarae  pas- 
sage ;  which  they  would  have  to  demonstrate  the  prodigious  size  of  our 
hero,  as  Polyphemus'  walking-stick  was  an  indication  of  the  Cyclops' 
dimensions.  It  is  pleasing  to  note  the  dreams  into  which  commenta- 
tors fall.         *  * 

686,  587.  And  O !  —  ivhose  starry  orhs,  etc.]     Fretille.     See  v.  281. 


116  rm:  vision  oi'  rubeta. 

This  seiz'd  Fretille;   and  soon  liei-  agile  hand 
Repair'd  the  breach,  and  button'd  down  the  band  :  595 
Not  without  cost ;  for,  while  she  shook  all  o'er 
From  some  dark  cause  1  cannot  now  explore, 
Three  times  her  needle  pierc'd  my  tender  flesh, 
Three  times  drew  blood,  and  made  me  roar  afresh. 

Mov'd  were  the  sisters'  gentle  hearts  the  while,  coo 
But  soon  I  reassur'd  them,  with  a  smile 
Sweet  as  the  bow  which,  on  a  summer's  even. 
Spans  the  dark  storm  receding  from  the  Heaven, 
Then  said  :  —  Think  not  this  mighty  spirit  quail'd, 
Illustrious  crew,  that  one  attempt  has  fail'd.  605 

When  pause  the  bold,  't  is  but  a  brief  delay. 
A  passing  cart  may  stop  a  hero's  way. 
Mine  is  still  on  !  though  stools  and  steel  appall, 
And  elbows  back  the  hazard  of  a  wall. 
Rubeta's  soul,  uncheck'd  by  fear  or  doubt,  6io 

Would  still  aspire,  though  both  his  eyes  were  out. 


Ver.  610  -  61-2.  Ruseta's  soul,  ^mchecK'd  by  fear  or  doubt,  —  Would  still 
aspire,  though  both  his  eyes  were  out.  —  Then  should  the  Muse,  etc.]  The 
indomitable  spirit  of  Rubeta's  character  is  well  evinced  in  this  passage. 
Though  his  courage  should  cost  him  the  total  deprivation  of  sight,  still 
he  should  be  great :  though  no  more  to  be  a  hero,  he  might  flourish  as 
a  poet,  and  the  Muse  would  gain  in  hirn  what  Valor  should  lose. 
Believing  this  most  devoutly,  we  could  almost  in  our  patriotism  forget 
humanity,  and  pray  that,  for  the  honor  of  America,  such  might  indeed 
be  the  consummation  of  his  glory.  Anon. 

The  reader,  when  he  comes  to  the  immortal  lines  of  Rubeta's  com- 
position which  are  quoted  in  the  next  Canto,  will  share  this  entliusiasm 
of  the  anonymous  commentator.        *  ' 


CANTO  SECOND.  117 

Then  should  the  Muse  by  V^iloi's  losses  gain, 

And  a  new  Milton,  or  a  Homer  reign. 

All  men  appear  the  same,  while  times  are  fair ; 

'T  is  but  misfortune  shows  them  as  they  are.  6i5 

So,  in  dry  weather,  cover'd  o'er  with  dust. 

The  street's  round  stones  display  one  common  crust : 

But  let  long  rains,  or  sudden  showers,  pour  down. 

Through   the   hoarse   kennel   floats  their   mask   of 

brown  ; 
The  shining  pebbles  show  their  native  hue ;  620 

Gray  checkers  black,  and  stammel  vies  with  blue. 
Where  the  fixt  soul  is  of  decided  stamp, 
'T  will  brighten,  touch  it  with  affliction's  damp  : 
As,  in  your  calico,  the  colors  set 
Show  most  distinctly,  when  the  print  is  wet.  625 

I  said.     Then  they  :  —  O  hero  nobly  try'd  ! 
Erect  thy  stem,  thou  flower  of  manhood's  pride  : 
No  show'r-wash'd  pebble,  (by  God's  holy  light!) 
Nor  wetted  gingham  ever  shone  so  bright ! 
What  though  one  eye  is  dim,  thy  shirt-tail  seen,     630 
Scanty  indeed,  and  not  exceeding  clean, 
The  salve  of  time  shall  plaster  up  the  hurt. 
And  virgin  purity  forget  the  shirt ! 

This  as  they  spoke,  the  nuns'  soft  hands  infuse 
The  acid  drops,  and  dab  the  throbbing  bruise.        535 
Flows  no  more  now  the  rheum ;  abates  the  smart : 
Then,  for  the  gods  admire  the  Arm  of  heart, 


118  THE    VISION  OF   RUBETA. 

Iris,  unseen,  descended  from  on  high, 

And  clapp'd  her  rainbow  on  llie  swollen  eye. 

O,  't  was  a  sight  to  sec,  how  look'd  the  train,     G4o 
When  rous'd  jour  chief  and  shook  his  warlike  mane, 
And  paw'd  the  ground,  terrific,  as  before, 
Free  of  the  past,  prepar'd  to  brave  still  more ! 
Forward!  —  he  crj'd  in  thunder,  —  To  the  traps! 
March,  Curtain-tails  !     To  glory,  Sable  caps  !         C45 
Six  nuns  methought  would  die  of  joy  outright ; 
And  the  rest  laugh'd,  ecstatic  with  delight :  — 

No  more  shall  saints  their  prodigies  display ;    ' 
Theirs  yield  to  thine,  as  stars  before  the  day. 
Or  crape  to  lace.     Pluck  Satan  by  the  nose  ?        650 
St.  Dunstan's  tongs  were  nothing  to  thy  hose  ! 
This  when  they  'd   spoke,  again  their  windpipes 
rang ; 
Till  the  monk-spiders  sway'd  before  the  clang. 
Their  joy  indulg'd,  unwonted  in  those  halls, 
I  lead  the  army  to  the  under  walls.  655 

Here  as  I  march'd,  with  all-observing  eye, 
In  a  dark  corner  Heaven  bade  me  spy 

Ver.  650,  651.  —  Pluck  Satan  by  the  nose?  —  St.  Dunstan's  tongs  were 
nothing  to  thy  hose .']  The  saint  who  filled  the  see  of  Canterbury  in  the 
tenth  century  was  not  so  gallant,  it  would  seem,  as  our  own  saint  and 
hero ;  for  once  upon  a  time,  when  Beelzebub  took  upon  himself  the 
likeness  of  a  fayre  ladyc  to  tempt  the  archbishop,  his  grace  made  red- 
hot  a  pair  of  tongs,  and  seized  his  wicked  Eminence  so  warmly  by 
the  nose,  that  the  dogs  of  Hell  were  conscious  of  roast  meat  for  a 
fortnight.         *  * 


CANTO  SECOND.  119 

Six  mighty  jars,  all  cover'd,  and  all  gray, 

Plac'd  side  by  side,  their  lodge  the  cellar-way. 

As  when  a  boy  at  taw,  in  some  low  street,  ggo 

Lights  on  a  button  shining  at  his  feet. 

Thinking  it  sixpence,  over  it  he  stands. 

And  shouts,  while  spreading  out  his  eager  hands. 

No  halves^  nor  quarters ;  nothing  yours,  but  mine  ! 

So,  laying  on  the  jars  this  fist  divine,  ggg 

The  other  paw  extended,  fierce  I  cry, 

(As  if  my  fellow-gazetteers  were  by,)  — 

Avaunt !  ye  half-starv'd  brothers  of  the  press, 

Greedy,  as  crows,  of  any  chance-distress  ! 

Let  flood,  and  fire,  and  rape,  your  gizzards  fill,      g7o 

Nor  think  to  pounce  upon  the  prey  I  kill : 

This  quarry  's  mine  !  my  courage  struck  it  down. 

To  scrape  me  many  a  bit  about  the  town. 

So  when  the  griffard,  bird  of  Afric  vast, 
On  the  soak'd  sand  his  dying  victim  cast,  G75 


Ver.  659,  659.  Six  mighty  jars  —  their  lodge  the  cellar-ivay."] 
"  I  have  already  remarked,  that  ihe  cellars  in  general  were  used  for  store-rooms. 
In  one  of  ihem,"  etc.,  "  I  found  a  number  of  large  stone  jugs."     Visit,  etc. 

673.  —  hit  —  ]  Not,  as  Johnson  defines  it,  a  coin  worth  about  7^  d. 
sterling,  (as  in  New  Orleans,)  but  its  younger  brother,  known  by  that 
name  in  Philadelphia,  and  representative  of  the  exact  value  of  a 
newspaper.        *  * 

674.  —  griffard  —  ]  Falco  armiger  —  Falco  bellicus  :  Griffard  — 
Warlike  Eagle :  a  bird  of  great  strength  and  courage. 

Just  above  we  have  seen  Rubeta  a  paver,  and  a  haberdasher,  or 
laundry-maid :  here  we  have  him  figuring  as  an  ornithologist.  Wonder- 
ful, versatile  being !        *  * 


120  THE   VISION   l)V   KUBETA. 

Prepares  to  gorge,  the  vultures,  sordid  troop  ! 
Fierce  to  the  spoil  their  coward  pinions  slope  : 
He,  standing  on  the  quivering  antelope, 
With  blazing  eye,  and  talons  steep'd  in  blood. 
Majestic,  overawes  the  vulgar  brood.  680 

I  raise  the  plug,  and,  bending  o'er  the  jar  :  — 
What  odor  strikes  my  senses?     Is  it  tar? 
Salve  ;  pennyroyal ;  sars'parilla  ;  thyme  ? 
How  speaks  the  guide  ?     Sulphuric  acid ;  lime. 
Maria's  carboys  !     Up,  thou  mighty  rod,  685 

And  sound  their  bottoms,  in  the  name  of  God  ! 
Bring  water,  nuns  !  if  aught  lie  here,  dissolv'd 
'T  will  float  to  top,  and  thus  our  doubts  be  solv'd. 
Meantime,  to  work  the  pestle  be  my  portion. 
Heav'n  shield  the  bowels  of  the  poor  abortion  !     690 

Ver.  683.  —  Salve  ;  pennyroyal,  etc.] 

"From  the  odor  of  the  corks,  and  the  scent  of  the  jugs  themselves,  I  presume 
their  contents  had  been  syrups,  essences,  and  medicinal  decoctions  for  the  sick  and 
the  apothecary."      Visit,  etc. 

684.  —  the  guide  —  ]     Monk's  book.     See  v.  252.         *  * 

685.  Maria's  carboys !  —  ] 

"  Recollecting  that  Maria  had  spoken  of  some  vessels,  which,  from  her  descrip- 
tion, must  have  been  carboys  of  sulphuric  acid,  used,  as  she  intimates,  with 
lime,  to  destroy  the  remains  of  the  murdered  victims,  I  examined  these  jugs." 
Visit,  etc. 

690.  Heavn  shield  the  hoivels  of  the  poor  abortion!]  The  humanity  of 
the  hero  is  very  conspicuous  in  this  exclamatory  prayer.  While  about 
to  churn  with  his  stick  the  unfinished  lump  of  creation  which  he  sup- 
posed to  be  in  the  carboy,  he  fears  for  its  intestines.  Who  but  himself 
could  have  had  such  forethought  in  such  a  moment  of  enthusiasm ! 

Bp,  Newton. 

No  one  but  his  prototype.  He,  when  making  ready  to  cut  the  throat 
of  TuRNUS,  and  tear  from  him  his  bride,  feels  similar  sentiments  of 


CANTO  SECOND.  121 

I  said,  and,  with  a  churniiig-motion,  pound. 
The  tottering  vase  gives  back  a  hollow  sound. 
Stop!  —  cry'd    Fretille,    amaz'd    my  strength    to 

view,  — 
Stop  !  or  you  '11  surely  punch  their  bottoms  through. 

Then  came  the  maid  of  golden  brows,  Carotte,  695 
And  pour'd  in  water  from  a  pewter  pot. 

compassion  for    the   consequences  which    must    attend    his   doughty 
resolution : 

Heu  !  quantse  miseris  csedes  Laurentibus  instant ! 
Quas  poenas  mihi,  Turne,  dabis !  quam  multa,  etc. 

Mn.  viii.  537.        *  * 
696.  —  peivter  pot.]     The  expression  is  vague,  nor  defines  the  par- 
ticular nature  of  the  vessel ;  the  purpose  to  which  it  was  devoted.    The 
understanding  of  this  matter,  which  seems  to  have  puzzled  commenta- 
tors not  a  little,  rests  upon  the  one  question,  Had  it  a  handle  ? 

TURNEBUS. 

Nihil  absurdius.  Nam  quid  si  non  matula  stannea,  istius  speciei  quae 
in  valetudinarii  sessibulis  usitatissima,  hie  intelligi  potest?  Observ.  hoc 
nostri  hemistichium : 

Scant  was  the  stream,  (v.  699.) 
et  vers.  seqq.  700,  701.     Prseterhasc  dicit,  versu  703, 

0''er  my  darri'd  —  [in  ed.  Venet.  et  aliis  damii'd,  perperam.  Vulgo 
interpretatur  darned  in  eodem  sensu:  dial.  Ston.  pro  damrCd:  sensus  pro 
Rubetas  modestia  parum  decorus  —  ]  stockings  rush'd  the  yellow  — 
[pro  yellow  ed.  Rom.  horrid  ;  sed  frigide  —  ]  stale  —  [urina  vetus,  spur- 
cissima,  tetro  odore.] 

Iterum  vers.  seqq.  705,  706,  habent 

Up  fiew  the  lotium :  ["  lotion "  vulgo  et  vitiose,  ut  apparet  de  vers, 
subs. :   Ye  gods  !  hotv  bitter-salt  !  ] 

Itaque  sic  interp. :  "  And  pour'd  in  water  from  a  pewter  pot  " ;  Uri- 
namque  infudit  e  matula  stannea.  Interpretationem  quam  Bracciolinus, 
poeta  clarus  atque  facetus,  necnon  Guarinus,  viri  doctissimi  ejus  nominis 
filius,  celeberrimique  Guarini,  auctoris  Pastoris  Fidi,  avus,  in  ipsorum 
versionibus  habent.  Haud  aliter,  vase  tenus,  Salvinius  Daceriusque  : 
cseteroqui  discrepant.     Hey.ve. 

Nell'  originale  '^pewter  pot,''^  rio6  orinale  di  stagno,  plena,  alio  scri- 
vere  di  alcuni   interpreti,  d'acqua  fatta  probabilmente  dalla  badessa, 
16 


122  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

So,  in  the  tale,  bold  Morgiana  heaves 
The  scalding  oil  upon  the  potted  thieves. 

Scant  was  the  stream.  I  shook  the  jar.  Then  rose 
A  pungent  scent,  whose  fragrance  seized  the  nose,  7oo 
And  forc'd  me,  in  alarm,  the  essence-box  to  close. 
Ill-judging  haste  !    Thrown  down,  (distracting  tale  !) 
O'er  my  darn'd  stockings  rush'd  the  yellow  stale  ! 
I  stamp'd  in  rage.     Thick-puddled  was  the  place. 
Up  flew  the  lotion,  and  aspers'd  my  face  :  705 

Ye  gods,  how  bitter-salt !     I  could  have  cry'd  ; 
But  simply  wip'd  my  brow,  and  thought,  with  pride, 

o  sia,  com'  altri  vogliono,  di  varie  contribuzioni  dalle  monache.  Di 
questa  composta  sarebbe  niolto  pnngente  I'odore.  Stale  vien  anche 
nominata  in  Inglese  la  birra  vecchia  e  inorta:  ma  non  si  pu6  credere 
che  fosse  di  questa  natura  il  liquore  qui  menzionato,  ovvero  non  sarebbe 
stato  detto,  come  nella  seguente  stanza  *  salamoia  [hrine).  Si  vedano 
il  Gazzetante  nel  suo  Discorso  delV  Acqua  Morta  di  Vergini,  p.  17,  ec. ; 
Guille.rmo  Bobo  de  Piedra,  sobre  los  Sillicos  y  las  Silletas  Asquerosas 
que  se  usan  en  los  Conventos  de  Canada,  —  Oct.  p.  1835  ;  e  Die  Dumm- 
heit  und  die  Lcichtgldubigkeit  der  mein  Herr  Wilhelm  Esel  Kindischgreis, 
Obrist- Possenreisser,  Forelle,  und  dergleichen  ;  diirch  die  Jungfer 
Loraina  Schamlosigkeit,  Angel, —  Okt.  Mtheilung,  1837. 

Tradiiz.  della  Visione  di  Rubeta  da  Salvini  :  Annotaz.  p.  31. 

I  cannot  subscribe  either  to  the  interpretation  of  Hetne,  or  to  the 
proofs  he  advances.  As  to  the  latter; —  it  is  evident  that  lotion  is  the 
proper  reading  ;  not  merely  that  " /oh'um"  is  not  English,  but  that  it  is 
as  an  emendation  unnecessary,  and,  at  any  rate,  would  not  be  used  by  so 
modest  a  speaker  as  our  hero.  Lotion,  doubtless,  as  being  used  to  wash 
the  vase.  The  saltness,  odor,  etc.,  would  arise  from  tlie  mixture  of  in- 
gredients. Stale,  is  old  beer,  and  is  used  metaphorically  in  this  place 
to  express  grapliically  the  condition  of  tlie  water  when  it  flowed  from 
the  jar.  As  to  the  nature  of  the  vessel  or  utensil  itself,  it  is  best  to 
leave  it  to  the  conjecture  of  the  reader.         *  * 

IJ05.  —  lotion  —  ]  Hetne  reads  lotium,  as  we  have  seen  in  the  pre- 
ceding note.        *  * 

*   V.  751,  of  the  text  5  the  translation  being  in  ottava  nma.        ** 


CANTO  SECOND.  123 

Such  short-liv'd  show'rs  are  nothing  to  the  great, 
And  briny  tears  must  stain  exalted  state. 

As  when,  with  musket  arm'd,  some  village  blade,  7io 
On  battle  bent,  and  treacherous  ambuscade, 
'Gainst   field-mice    bold,   fierce   wrens,   and   warlike 

thrushes, 
Sees,  as  he  thinks,  a  linnet  in  the  bushes. 
With  heart  a-pit-pat,  striding  on  his  toes. 
Form  crouch'd,  head  forw'rd,  scarce  breathing  as  he 


goes 


715 


His  left  hand  props  the  rusty  tube,  his  right 
Thumbs  the  cock'd  hammer :  lo !  he  takes  his  sight, 
Winks,  fires  :  the  bird  sits  motionless  in  scorn  : 
'T  is  but  a  brown  leaf,  sticking  on  a  thorn  ! 
Ev'n  such  my  joy,  those  six  gray  pots  to  meet,     720 
Nor  less  my  sorrow  at  the  fond  deceit. 

Not   so  whom   Bruno's   blundering  spite   makes 
famous, 
Te  Deum  squealing,  and,  (I  think,)  laudamus. 
They  thought,  poor  innocents,  the  trial  o'er. 
Burns  then,  —  I  cry'd,  —  the  vestal's  fire  no  more  ?  725 


Ver,  725.  Burns  then,  —  /  crifd,  —  the  vestaVs  fire  no  more  1  ]  Bdrman 
interprets  this  expression  very  impertinently.  Rdbeta,  he  says,  asked 
the  sisters  if  they  had  suddenly  lost  their  maiden  virtue  ! 

Heinsius  agrees  witli  him,  but  adds,  that  Rdbeta  insinuates  a  face- 
tious allusion,  after  his  fashion,  to  the  extinct  fire  of  the  Vestal  virgins, 
the  prototypes  from  whom  the  Romish  Church  has  borrowed,  or  rather 
inherited  in  direct  descent,  and  by  the  rotation  and   perpetuity  of 


124  THE   VISION    OF   RUBETA. 

Saints !  virgins  !  comrades  !  where  Rubeta  trod 
Who  still  have  follow'd,  nor  once  calFd  on  God, 
O  let  not  now  those  generous  bosoms  beat 
With  less  of  ardor  for  this  one  defeat ! 
Not  now,  when  Danger  croaks  her  worst  alarms,   730 
And  the  last  trial  waits  to  crown  our  arms. 
O,  if  for  ye  unheard  of  ills  I  've  borne  ; 
Bruis'd  ;  blinded  ;  rolFd  in  dust ;  my  braces  torn  ; 
Hung  up  unbreech'd ;  condemn'd  to  bare  unclean 
What,  since  my  nurse,  no  woman's  eyes  had  seen  ;  735 
Rouse  up  a  heart,  march  cheerly  to  the  traps, 
Nor  shame  your  sleeves,  your  veils,  your  tails,  your 
caps ! 

national  customs  (as  with  almost  all  its  other  usances  as  well  as  cere- 
monies), its  institution  of  female  monasticism. 

Broukhusius,  scouting  tlie  idea  of  Rubeta's  making  any  allusion  to 
the  priestesses  of  Vesta,  because,  says  he,  the  hero  knew  nothing  about 
them,  explains  it  into  a  simple  demand  whether  the  fire,  (of  courage, 
doubtless,)  or  the  spirit  of  enterprise,  which  had  animated  them  at  their 
first  setting  out  under  his  conduct,  be  now  extinct ;  and  tlie  learned 
critic  concludes  with  referring  in  support  of  his  opinion  to  the  verses 
which  immediately  follow.  To  his  explanation  we  subscribe  as  per- 
fectly conclusive,  while  we  reject  tlie  argument  on  wliich  it  is  predi- 
cated.        *  * 

727.  — nor  once  calPd  on  God,]  As  above,  (v.  568.)  This  animated 
speech  of  the  hero's  we  should  consider  an  imitation  of  that  of  Me- 
KESTHEus  to  his  rowcrs,  did  we  not  know  Rubeta's  originality,  and 
should  regard  it  as  original,  did  we  not  recollect  his  erudition.  This  is 
the  passage  :  the  reader  shall  judge  for  himself:  — 

Nunc,  nunc,  insurgite  remis, 
Hectorei  socii,  Trojee  quos  sorte  suprema 
Delegi  comites  ;  nunc  illas  promite  vires, 
Nunc  animos  quibus  in  Gsetulis  syrtibus  usi, 
lonioque  mari,  Maleaeque  sequacibus  undis. 

Mn.  V.  189-193. 


CANTO   SECOND.  125 

Mute,  to  the  vault  their  facile  steps  they  bent, 
Where  scarce  a  ray  of  heaven  dim  twilight  lent. 
Horror  appear'd  their  woman's  nerves  to  shake  ;     740 
Not  for  their  own,  but  for  their  leader's  sake  : 
Chok'd  Laughter,  struggling  from  his  sleeve  to  burst, 
Express'd  how  bold  they  would  be,  if  they  durst. 

Ye  deities,  who,  thron'd  in  gloom  profound, 
Guide    the    blind    worms    which    burrow    under      \ 

ground ;  745 

Whose  power  is  mark'd  in  blinder  things  than  they. 
Great  Bulwer's  prose,  and  Mrs.  Hemans'  lay ; 

Ver.  744-747.  Ye  deities,  etc.] 

Di,  quibus  imperium  est  aninaarum,  Umbrseque  silentes, 

Et  Chaos,  et  Phlegethon,  loca  nocte  tacentia  late, 

Sit  mihi  fas  audita  loqui ;  sit,  numine  vestro, 

Pandere  res  alta  terra  et  caligine  mersas ! 

ViRG.  .En.  vi.  265  -  268. 
746,  747.  JVhose  power  is  marked  in  blinder  things  than  they,  — 
Great  Bulwer's  prose,  and  Mrs.  Hemans'  lay ;  ]  Though  we  are  not 
aware  of  having  prompted  our  judgments  by  the  hints  of  any  other  writer, 
we  are  not  the  first  in  this  country  who  has  paid  his  critical  compliments 
to  these  two  popular  names.  The  author  of  a  book  called  Sixty  Years  of 
the  Ldfe  of  Jeremy  Levis,  (a  strange  mixture,  by  the  by,  of  sense  and 
nonsense,  puerility  and  masculine  expression,  studied  refinement  and 
slovenly  carelessness,  at  all  of  which  we  shall  have  a  blow  in  the  6th  or 
7th  Canto,)  has  devoted  to  the  same  subject  two  entire  chapters ;  one 
of  which  is  a  burlesque  imitation  of  the  style  of  The  Disowned;  while 
the  other,  whence  we  have  taken  one  of  our  mottoes,  contains  a 
caricatura-parody  of  Mrs.  Hemans,  which  sets  the  distinguished  merits 
of  that  lady's  school  of  poetry  in  so  striking  a  light,  that  we  shall  copy 
the  whole  of  it  for  the  benefit  of  her  pupils,  and  of  the  admirers  of  their 
academic  exercises. 

"  Before  I  present  to  you,"  (says  the  author  to  his  reader),  "  the  first-born  of  my 
Muse,  I  would  remark,  that  I  offer  it  —  not  from  the  paternal  vanity  which  expects  to 
be  gratified  with  a  iiosl  of  such  compliments  as  '  Pretty  dear !  '  and  '  Darling-  little 
fellow  ! '  and  '  Father's  very  image  ! '  —  but  simply,  because  I  would  prove  that  it  is 
the  first  of  its  species,  and  that  the  character  of  deep  and  impassioned  feeling,  which 


126  THE   VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

Give  me  your  reign  to  speak,  O  give  to  tell, 

In  fitting  terms,  the  murk,  and  terrors  of  your  hell ! 

is  supposed  to  belong  exclusively  to  the  poetry  of  the  present  day,  was  actually 
known  many  years  ago !  "  etc. 

"LINES  TO . 


"  Nay,  be  not  angry,  love  ! 
Nor  turn  aside  those  eyes  with  brightness  shining  : 
Can  sighy  looks  and  balmy  words  nought  move  ? 
Nor  the  deep  breathing  of  my  sad  repining  ? 

"  Thou  lov'd  one  of  my  soul ! 
Bright  being  of  my  rainbow  hopes  and  fears  ! 
That  on  my  dreamy  hours  cloud-like  dost  roll, 
Fraught  with  glad  sunshine  and  with  dewy  tears  ! 

"  Let  me  not  linger  on, 
Ever  amid  a  life  so  joy-repelling, 
Without  one  sunny  smile  to  feed  upon. 
Or  stop  the  fountain  of  my  grief  deep-welling ; 

"  Without  one  smile-lit  glance. 
Which,  with  its  day-spring  hue,  like  fire-flies  burning ! 
May  wreathe  my  spirit  in  the  fairy  dance 
Of  heart-felt  hopes  and  wishes  ever  turning,  — 

"  May  be  to  me  a  token  — 
To  me  the  sadly  yet  the  brightly  lost  — 
That,  though  the  music  of  my  life  is  broken, 
Arion-like  amid  the  ocean  tost, 

"  There  still  remains 
One  gentle  chord  that  floated  aye  unsunken, 
Ever  from  hence  to  be,  mid  winds  and  rains, 
A  cherish'd  thing  —  unfaded  and  unshrunken  ! 

"  Yes !  this  shall  rest  — 
This  pressure  of  thy  hand  —  the  softly  blushing  ! 
An  amulet  to  still  my  throbbing  breast. 
And  sooth  Despair's  dark  waves  when  inward  gushing. 

"  Then  fare-thee-well ! 
Thou  beautiful  and  lov'd !  aye  bless'd  to  be  ! 
Oyer  my  tomb  though  toll  the  teary  knell. 
My  mouth  shall,  shell-like,  ope  to  moan  for  thee." 

Vol.  I.  p.  216. 
(See  also  the  six  following  pages,  where  the  novelist,  in  affecting  to  paint,  out  the 


CANTO  SECOND.  127 

Not  yet  had  lost  the  mottled  pump  its  shine,  75o 

Still  to  my  nostrils  clung  the  fragrant  brine, 
When,  as  I  trod  the  damp,  my  anxious  eyes 
See  sudden  through  the  gloom  a  portal  rise 
Whose  iron  head  appear'd  to  brave  the  skies. 
Near  by,  an  awful  shape  was  seen  to  stand,  755 

With  lowering  brow.     A  spade  sustain'd  his  hand. 


beauties  of  the  foregoing  lines,  goes  through  a  minute  though  burlesque  criticism  of  a 
poetry  so  admired  of  ladies  and  newspapers.) 

Since  the  above  was  written,  I  have  found,  in  the  5th  vol.  of  Mr. 
Lockhart's  Life  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  the  following  observation, 
in  a  letter  written  from  the  greatest  genius  of  the  day  to  tlie  first  of 
poetesses,  the  only  one  indeed,  since  the  time  of  Sappho,  that  deserves 
the  title  :  —  "Mrs.  Hemans,"  says  the  illustrious  writer,  "is  somewhat 
too  poetical  for  my  taste  —  too  many  flowers,  I  mean,  and  too  little 
fruit."*  —  We  quote  this  brief  remark,  not  from  any  satisfaction  it 
affords  to  ourselves  as  confirmatory  of  an  opinion  which  has  common 
sense  and  nature  to  support  it,  besides  the  dicta  of  every  critic  from 
Aristotle  down  to  Hugh  Blair,  but  because  it  may  help  to  shake 
the  popularity  of  this  writer,  (so  dangerous  to  good  taste,)  with  those 
who  very  justly  consider  satire  no  argument,  and  with  whom,  very  un- 
justly, any  the  soundest  argument,  from  an  unknown  source,  would  have 
little  or  no  weight. 

By  the  above  note,  it  would  appear  that  the  Author  of  the  Vision 
adopts  the  opinion  of  Rubeta  as  his  own ;  and  hence  there  have  not 
been  wanting  commentators  Avho  urge  that  the  criticism  is  misplaced, 
impertinently  asking  how  Rubeta  could  be  supposed  to  stumble  on  any 
thing  like  a  correct  judgment !  By  referring  to  a  note  of  Canto  iii, 
(v.  532,  533,)  it  will  be  found  very  easy  for  him  to  express  the  same 
opinion,  through  conjecture  or  envy,  which  another  would  do  from  cool 
judgment ;  that  is,  supposing  he  were  the  ignorant,  ridiculous,  and 
malicious  blockhead  which  his  poetical  historian,  and  the  majority  of 
good  annotators,  have  determined  to  make  him.         *  * 

*  Letter  from  Sir  W.  Scott  to  Miss  .Toanna  Baillie  :  Lockhart's  Memoirs 
of  the  Baronet,  Vol.  II.  p.  328  of  the  Philad.  8ro.  edition. 


128  THE   VISION  OF   RUBETA. 

Squalid  his  dress  ;  a  roundabout  obscene 
Scarce  reach'd  his  loins,  and  smallclothes  velveteen. 
Bare  were  his  feet,  his  throat  and  bosom  bare. 
Horrid  with  filth,  and  overgrown  with  hair.  760 

One  eyeball  quench'd,  the  other  fate  had  spar'd  : 
It  seem'd  to  fire  the  nose,  so  fierce  it  glar'd. 
Mortal  he  look'd ;  but  more  than  mortal  vast : 
A  Polyphemus  leaning  on  his  mast. 

Him  when  I  saw,  stiff  grew  my  limbs  with  dread ; 
I  grasp'd  my  wand,  and  but  for  fear  had  fled.  766 

In  my  blind  zeal,  I  had  outstripp'd  the  train; 
And  'gainst  mere  giants  what  avails  a  cane  ? 

The  Cyclops  saw,  and  upward  heav'd  his  tool :  — 
What  arrant  brought  ye  here,  ye  starin^  owl  ?  77o 

Great  Bulweb's  prose  —  ]  I  need  scarcely  add,  having'  coupled  him 
with  Mrs.  Hemans,  that  Mr.  Bulwer's  obscurity  is  principally  of  that 
celestial  sort  which  arises  from  excess  of  splendor.  He  has  it,  however, 
of  all  sorts.  Witness  his  Athens,  the  first  forty  pages  (in  the  Am.  ed.) 
of  which,  and  I  never  could  get  further,  I  declare  upon  my  honor,  cost 
me  more  labor  than  almost  any  book  I  ever  read  ;  and  I  could  not  tell 
you  now  one  tittle  of  what  it  is  about.  Lycophron  is  plain  sailing  to  it, 
and  Aristotle  needs  no  Tivining. 

Ver.  765,  766.  Him  when  1  saw,  stiff  grew  my  limbs  ivith  dread ;  —  / 
grasp'd  my  wand,  and  but  for  fear  had  Jled .]  The  extremity  of  the 
hero's  terror,  which  made  him  pile  the  iron  gate  to  heaven,  see  a  Cy- 
clops in  the  awful  shape,  and  rooted  his  limbs  to  the  ground,  is 
perfectly  consistent  with  the  greatest  courage,  and  only  brings  him 
nearer  to  the  heroes  of  a  more  removed  antiquity.  Besides,  it  is  to  be 
observed  that  he  has  here  the  excuse  which  they  had  not  :  he  knew  the 
circumscribed  powers  of  the  mystic  rod,  which  only  reached  to  things 
inanimate,  and  to  spirits  disembodied  ;  for  he  says  immediately, 

"  And  'gainst  mere  giants  what  avails  a  cane  '?  "^ 
that  is,  had  the  form  been  more  than  a  giant,  he  would  not  merely  have 


CANTO  SECOND.  129 

He  roar'd  :     The  tournips  is  it  sure  ye  seek  ? 
Arrah !  begone,  with  your  shillelah ;  quick.  — 
Och  !  let  Pate  Doolan  tach  ye,  dear,  to  rin : 
Though  how  the  divil  got  your  thief  ship  in  ? 

To  which  pale  Boiteuse,  sidling  up,  reply'd, —  775 
Thou  godless  layman  !  art  thou  stultify'd  ? 

grasp'd  his  wand,  but  struck.     For  it  was  not,  as  the  scholiast  supposes, 
the  impulse  of  fear  whicli  made  him  grasp  it,  that  is  to  say,  press  it  ner- 
vously: and  the  reason  which  is  given  in  the  next  verse  (7G7)  why  he 
would  have  fled  is  not  at  all  translatable  into  an  argument  of  pusilla- 
nimity.    He  knew  that  the  raging  lion  stands  in  awe  of  a  single  virgin: 
what  then  could  a  giant  do  before  some  thirty-six  ?     Eustathius. 
769.   The  Cyclops  saw,  and  upivard  heav''d  his  tool :  etc.] 
Navita  quos  jam  inde  ut  Stygia  prospexit  ab  unda 
Per  taciturn  nemus  i-x-e,  pedemque  advertere  ripss, 
Sic  prior  aggreditur  dictis,  atque  increpat  ultro: 
Quisquis  es,  armatus  qui  nostra  ad  flumina  tendis. 
Fare  age,  quid  venias  ;  jam  istinc  et  comprime  gressum. 

ViRG.  ^n.  vi.  385-389. 
The  fidelity  of  Rubeta's  narrative  is  here  beautifully  conspicuous. 
Like  the  conscientious  son  of  Veivus,  he  nothing  extenuates.         *  * 
7T0.  —  owl.]     Hie  sonat  ool,  more  Hibern.     H.  Stephanus. 

775.  — pale  —  ]  As  the  crippled  nun  has  not  been  before  distin- 
guished by  this  epithet,  we  are  to  suppose  it  was  alarm  for  the  peril  in 
which  she  saw  the  darling  head,  that  had  whitened  her  complexion. 

*  # 

776.  To  ivhich  pale  Boiteuse,  sidling  up,  reply^d :  etc.] 

Q,ua9  contra  brevitcr  fata  est  Amphrysia  vates : 
NullsB  hie  insidise  tales  ;  absiste  moveri ; 
Nee  vim  tela  ferunt ; 


Troius  iEneas,  pietate  insignis  et  armis, 

Ad  genitorem  imas  Erebi  descendit  ad  umbras. 

Si  te  nulla  movet  tantse  pietatis  imago. 

At  ramum  hunc  (aperit  ramum  qui  veste  latebat  {i.  e.  showed 

her  leg)  ) 
Agnoscas.  Virg.  ^n.  vi.  398  -  400 ;  403  -  407. 

17 


130  THE   VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

Seest  not  this  face  threats  never  angry  deed  ? 
This  goodly  stomach  turnips  cannot  feed  ? 
Lo !    St.  RuBETA,  sponge  of  slander'd  maids, 
Would  get  him  children  in  yon  cellar's  shades.       780 
If  thou  respect'st  not  truth  and  valor  known, 
At  least  look  on  this  leg,  and  Boiteuse  own ; 
Her  sisters  own,  who,  toiling  night  and  day. 
Bleed,  cup,  and  blister,  syringe,  sing,  and  pray. 
Go !  get  the  keys,  and  straight  undo  the  door,      785 
Or,  Patrick  Doolan,  never  see  me  more ! 

The  grim-ey'd  porter  knew  the  shrunken  thigh, 
Produc'd  the  keys,  nor  sullen  deign'd  reply. 
Slow  strains  the  bolt,  the  rude  wards  harshly  grate. 
O'er  the  rough  pebbles  rubs  the  loose-hing'd  gate,  790 
And,  clanging  as  it  struck  the  vault's  hard  side, 
Bar'd  the  dank  arch,  and  spread  a  passage  wide. 

Ver.  787,  783.  The  grim-ey'd  porter  knew  the  shrunken  thigh,  —  PrO' 
duc'd  the  keys,  —  ] 

Ille,  admirans  venerabile  donura 
Fatalis  virgse,  longo  post  tempore  visum, 
Cojruleam  advertit  puppim,  ripfeque  propinquat. 

ViRG..a:?i.vi.  408-410. 


CANTO   THIRD. 


THE    NUNNERY. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  episode  still  continues. — Distress  of  St.  Cholera. 
The  sisterhood  enter  the  cave.  Generosity  of  the  hero  :  and 
sordidness  of  the  giant  Doolan.  The  adventure  of  the  en- 
chanted cask  :  defeat  of  Chemos  and  rout  of  the  infernal 
legion.  The  hero  at  the  edge  of  the  pit  of  horrors.  He  is 
held  back  by  the  sisters,  but  leaves  his  tail,  like  Joseph,  in 
their  hands,  and  descends.  His  account  of  what  he  saw  in 
the  pit.  He  announces  to  the  nuns  the  termination  of  the 
enterprise,  and  the  vindication  of  their  chastity.  His  joy 
gives  rise  to  an  accident  which  had  nearly  proved  fatal.  The 
triumphal  procession  :  with  the  song  of  the  nuns.  Return 
before  the  Mother  and  the  green  Father.  The  acquisition  of 
the  vestal  garters.  The  farewell-address  of  the  hero.  Reply 
of  the  Abbess.  The  parting-presents  of  the  sisters  :  what  in 
particular  Clystera  gave  :  and  how  the  hero  responded  to 
their  kindness.  Touching  interchange  between  the  hero  and 
the  Father.  The  last  adieu  of  Rubeta  ;  with  the  overflow  of 
the  fountain  of  grief.  The  hero  departs  from  Montreal, 
and  returns  to  New  York.  What  he  expected  there,  and 
how  he  was  disappointed.  Rubeta  assumes  the  thread  of 
his  narrative,  where  he  had  broken  it  off*  to  recount  the  ex- 
ploits achieved  with  the  mystic  wand.  Encounter  with  the 
Brunonians.  The  hero's  peril,  escape,  and  flight.  This 
brings  him  to  the  convention,  and  the  episode  concludes.  — 
The  monarch  now  descends  from  his  temporary  throne,  and 
assumes  his  place  as  president  of  the  conclave.  Great  hub- 
bub in  the  assembly  ;  and  how  appeased.  Abstemiousness  of 
the  hero  ;  and  his  eulogium  of  water.  Speech  of  Petronius. 
The  newsmen  prepare  for  the  celebration  of  their  mysteries. 


THE 


VISION   OF    RUBETA 


CANTO   THIRD. 

But  not  for  all  :  one  Fate  had  niark'd  that  day, 
Condemn'd  to  suffer  while  the  rest  were  gay. 

A  nun  there  was,  St.  Cholera  by  name, 
Of  tender  bowels,  though  of  sturdy  frame  : 
Her,  as  she  thought  to  follow  in  the  train,  5 

Dire  twinges  seiz'd  of  peristaltic  pain  : 
Writh'd  on  the  floor  supine,  she  grip'd  the  stones, 
And  the  vaults  echo'd  to  her  shrieks  and  groans. 

Dark  swell'd  my  doubts ;  I  rush'd  the  signs  to  see. 
Soft!  —  said  Clystera,  —  leave  this  case  to  me.    lo 
TuYAU  !  this  side.     Nay,  sister !   bear  the  rack. 
Fear  not,  dear  chief;   your  nun  will  soon  be  back  : 
Not  for  a  pound  of  bladders,  would  I  miss 
To  see  thee  rise,  like  Satan,  from  the  abyss  ! 

Ver.  1  -  4.  But  not  for  all :   etc.] 

OiiSi  fAf  ovV  'ivht  Trio  Scrn/J^iivas  nyov  irai^njf  • 

'^X<rma^  oi  ris  iVxi  tnHiTccras,  oliVi  ri  Xinv 

" AXKiftai  if  irtXifiiij),  alirt  ^^ly/n  r,ri\i  apitpu;  — 

iloM.  Odyas.  x.  551-553. 
11.   TuTAu  —  ]      One  of  the  train,  doubtless,  whom  she  calls  to  aid 
her,  and  then  directs  on  which  aide  to  support  their  suffering  sister. 


134  THE   VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

The  cloistress  said,  and  bore  her  sick  along.  is 
The  rest,  behind  me,  to  the  cellar  throng. 

'T  was  a  strange  place,  with  various  lumber  spread  : 
Here  stood  a  pump ;  there  lean'd  a  truckle-bed ; 
Consumptive  trestles  rest  upon  their  side, 
Two  legs  embracing,  and  two  sunder'd  wide ;         20 
Crack'd  pots  and  lipless  jordans  seem  to  sprawl ; 
And  pil'd  up  barrels  threaten  by  the  wall, 
As  thick  as  in  a  dance  the  ankles  meet. 
As  thick  as  dashes  on  Petronius'  sheet, 
As  thick  as  stains  upon  a  huckster's  lap ;  25 

And  lo  !  midway  the  floor,  the  fatal  trap. 

Much  mov'd  to  view  the  gay,  congenial  scene. 
Tell  me,  O  virgin,  what  does  all  this  mean  ? 

Ver.  16.  Tlie  cloistress  said,  and  bore  her  sick  along.]  The  facility, 
with  which  on  every  occasion  this  amiable  yet  heroic  man  suffers  him- 
self to  be  persuaded  contrarily  to  his  own  impressions,  is  eminently 
beautiful.  Always  his  doubts  return  :  but  directly,  like  a  well-poised 
gilded  vane,  he  veers  Jiim  where  tlie  current  blows.  What  a  lovely 
picture  of  an  all  but  perfect  character !  See  his  "  Visit " ;  see  his 
"  Animal  Magnetism  " ;  see  his  daily  life  !         *  * 

24.  Jls  thick  as  dashes  on  Petronius'  sheet,]  See  the  editorial  lucu- 
brations, ruminations,  and  deviations,  in  any  day's  N.  Y.  American :  or, 

for  a  specimen  of  Trony's  staccato  style,  consult  v.  75G,  Canto  iv. 

*  # 

27  -  40.  Much  mov'd  to  vieiv  the  gay,  congenial  scene,  —  Tell  me,  O 
virgvi,  what  does  all  this  mean  ?  — I  said.     Then  she,  etc.] 
iEneas,  miratus  enim,  motusque  tumultu, 
Die,  ait,  o  virgo,  quid  volt  concursus  ad  amnem  ? 


Olli  sic  breviter  fata  est  longseva  sacerdos : 
Anchisa  generate,  deum  certissima  proles, 


CANTO  THIRD.  135 

I  said.     Then  she,  whose  self-denying  charms 
Resign  a  mortal's  for  celestial  arms  :  —  30 

O  warlike  Trajan,  Valor's  truest  breed ! 
Where  tow'r  yon  barrels,  turnips  lie  for  seed. 
There  too  our  winter-onions  shun  the  sight. 
The  keeper  he,  and  Patrick  Doolan  hight ; 
Whom  men  call  Pat :  he  keeps  our  garden  nice,     35 
Weeds  the  rank  herbs,  and  catches  moles  and  mice. 
Around,  the  bodies  of  defunct  concerns, 
Unpurg'd  by  fire,  unbury'd,  wait  their  turns. 
Till,  call'd  by  winter,  in  our  stoves  heap'd  up, 
Their  ashes  are  consign'd  to  make  us  soap.  40 

These  when  I  heard,  and  knew  his  virtues  mild, 
Sore  yearn'd  my  heart  for  Erin's  dirty  child. 
To  smooth  his  ruffled  down  I  stretch'd  my  hand, 
And  begg'd  we  might  be  friends,  in  accents  bland  :  — 

Cocyti  stagna  alta  vides,  Stygiamque  paludem. 

«  *  * 

Hsec  omnis,  quam  cernis,  inops  inhumataque  turba  est ; 

Portitor  ille,  Charon ; 

%  *  * 

*  *  * 

Centum  errant  annos,  volitantque  hsec  litora  circum : 
Turn  demum  admissi  stagna  exoptata  revisunt. 

JEn.  vi.  317,  &c. 
31.  —  Trajan  —  ]     Some  MSS.  read  Trojan  ;  which  however  was 
the  meaning  of  the  nun.         *  * 

44.  — begg''d  toe  might  he  friends  in  accents  bland:]  This  touciiing 
generosity  has  no  parallel,  save  in  two  instances  ;  the  one  in  Sisy- 
phus' bastard,  (which  it  most  resembles,)  the  other  in  the  left-hand 
spouse  of  Dido.  But  the  mighty  Doolan  Avas  not  so  surly  quite  as 
Ajax,  who  would  not  speak  at  all.  See  Odyss.  xi.  (Vol  1.  pp.  311, 
312,  ed.  Oxon.  Gr.    1797.) 


136  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

For  thou  art  strong,  a  hairy  man  to  see,  45 

King  of  the  shades,  and  who  a  match  for  thee  ! 

Boo !  pit  your  blarney  ivhere  ye  kapes  your  cash  ; 
I  hi  rather  tip  a  dram  than  all  that  flash. 
No  more  the  thirsty  Sybarite  reply'd, 
But  cock'd  his  orb,  and  sullen  stalk'd  aside.  so 

Ver.  45-48.  For  thou  art  strong,  a  hairy  man  to  see,  —  King  of  the 
shades,  and  ivho  a  match  for  thee  !  —  Boo  !  etc.]  The  sordid  spirit 
of  the  giant  Doolan,  and  the  absurdity  of  his  resentment  because  the 
hero  offered  him  his  hand  instead  of  money,  are  deservedly  reprobated 
by  Dr.  Trapp,  and  are  contrasted  to  the  Christian  humility  and  the 
generosity  of  the  Babe-hunter,  with  more  than  the  Doctor's  usual  judg- 
ment. 

Just  such  a  contrast  is  presented  in  the  colloquy  between  the  Vulnera- 
ble Heel,  and  the  courtly  king  of  Ithaca.     Ulvsses  sings  : 

SsTo  V,  ' A^iXXiu, 

OvTi;  avri«,  x.  r.  X.  Odyss.  xl.  481  -  485. 

You  were  a  great  fellow  above  stairs,  Killet  :  no  man  could  hold  a 
candle  to  you :  tve  made  quite  a  god  of  you :  now  that  you  have  taken 
lower  apartments,  I  see  you  are  cock  of  the  walk  here  too.  To  which 
the  melancholy  sprite,  who  seems  to  have  found  out  that  he  had  been  a 
very  great  fool  to  sell  his  life  for  a  song,  though  the  song  of  Homer, 
answers : 

^s'jXoifiiriii  x'  ira^ouoo;  tu)i  ^r,Tiuiy.!v  oiXXeu 
'Avio)  ■ra^  axXri^iAi,  Z  fih  (iioros  ToXu;  ii'v, 
H  ■PTcciriv  viKuia-fri  xa.Ta(p^i//.iK)iinii  avde'a'iif. 

76.487-490. 
Don't  talk  to  me  in  that  style,  my  A'abob :  I  hi  rather  have  brown  bread 
and  an  onion,  with  a  ivholesome  country-wench,  than  eat  mock-turtle  with 
PsosERnxE.  (It  was  on  account  of  this  dissatisfaction,  no  doubt,  that 
he  afterward  removed  his  lodgings  to  the  Fauxbourg  St.  Germain  of 
Leuce,  where  he  married  Helen,  and  by  the  last  accounts  was  passing 
his  time  quite  comfortably.)         *  * 

49.  —  Sybarite  —  ]  The  Leips.  copy  has  "  Cerberus"  ;  very  prop- 
erly. He  who  can  suppose  Rubeta  so  grossly  ignorant  as  to  make 
this  mistake  must  think  with  the  Author,  and  we  can  only  wonder  at  his 
infatuation.    Justice,  however,  obliges  us  to  add,  that  the  wish  with 


CANTO   THIRD.  137 

Sick  was  my  soul,  my  lids  with  moisture  blink, 
To  see  a  one-ey'd  man  so  giv'n  to  drink. 
Pensive  I  watch'd  his  slow  receding  heel. 
When  from  a  barrel  seem'd  this  voice  to  steal :  — 

O  unsubdu'd  by  any  shameful  task,  55 

Hero,  and  saint,  and  sage  !  heave  down  this  cask. 
'T  is  Na vet's  tomb.     Once  I  was  plump  as  you. 
A  priest,  with  eyes  of  just  your  angel-hue. 
Taught  Sister  Navet  pleasant  ways  to  sin  ; 
And  when  her  time  was  up  here  nail'd  her  in.         6o 

0  rouse  thee  !   till  the  coop  be  downward  flung, 
My  ghost  will  still  keep  bobbing  at  the  bung. 

It  ceas'd.    A  rustling  sound  !  and  the  cask  shook  ! 

1  wait  no  more ;  the  oaken  coffin,  strook. 
Totters,  leans  doubtful,  falls  with  thundering  sound,  65 
And  —  fifty  dozen  turnips  strow  the  ground! 

RuBETA  to  appear  learned,  which  the  Poet  and  his  older  commentators 
evidently  consider  as  unredeemed  by  any  actual  knowledge,  is  uni- 
versal, and  of  some  date.  A  magazine  of  1821  thus  briefly  character- 
izes the  hero,  according  to  the  notions  of  that  day,  (if  we  are  right  in 
considering  his  spirit  to  pervade  the  modern  journal  in  which  we  so 
often  parallel  his  opinions) : 

"The  Commercial  Advertiser,  or  Connecticut  loilchcrajl,  a  Pedant 
in  Literature,  a  Sexton  for  fast  days."  *         *  * 

*  "  The  Literary  Companion.  Edited  by  Howard,  Jun."  Vol.  I.  No.  2,  p.  20. 
New  York,  June  23,  1821. —  Under  the  brief  character  above  given  is  one  for  the 
N.  Y.  American,  which  every  one  will  allow  is  admirably,  as  concisely,  descriptive. 
(It  proves  moreover  the  great  solidity  and  firm  position  of  that  journal,  which,  a  rare 
example  in  this  world  of  mutability,  has  not  budged  a  step,  nor  lost  a  type  in  weight, 
for  seventeen  years.) 

"The  American,  less  useful  than  zealous,  has  all  the  contortions  of  the  Sybil, 
icithout  the  inspiration."         *  * 

18 


138  THE  VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

And  from  the  midst  a  beast,  with  liispid  claws, 
(His  tail  a  file,)  fierce  eyes,  and  whisker'd  jaws, 
Sprung  at  my  face.     Aback  I  leap'd  in  fear ; 
For  well  I  knew  the  Devil  by  his  hair.  7o 

Not  always  present  the  observant  mind ; 
Nor,  like  a  bug,  can  men  have  eyes  behind. 
One  globous  root  the  fiend  transformed  of  Hell 
Push'd  in  my  way.     I  slid,  lost  balance,  fell. 
Gallop'd  the  Devil  o'er  my  face  supine,  75 

And  scatter'd,  as  he  went,  his  soil  and  brine. 

Dire  rous'd  my  manhood  :  starting  up,  I  cry'd, 
Avaunt,  loose  Chemos  !     Satan,  be  defy'd  ! 

Gone  is  loose  Chemos  ;  but,  when  in  my  ire 
I  smote  around  me  till  the  stones  flash'd  fire  so 


Ver.  76.  And  scattered,  as  he  loent,  his  soil  and  brine.]  Batle,  who 
laughs  at  Rubeta's  notion  of  the  metamorphosis,  and  bluntly  calls  the 
animal  a  rat,  says  that  this  was  a  very  natural  effect  of  the  creature's 
fright.  There  are  some  men  who  will  believe  nothing,  though  even,  as 
our  saintly  hero  himself  says,  "  one  should  arise  from  the  dead  and 
attest  it."  *        *  * 

78.  —  Cbemos  —  ]  One  of  Milton's  devils:  "Chemos,  th'  obscene 
dread  of  Moab's  sons:"  the  same  for  whom  Solomon  built  an  altar,  in 
the  days  when  he  was  old  and  "  liis  wives  turned  away  his  heart," 
"women  of  the  Moabites,  Ammonites,  Edomites,  Zidonians,  and 
HiTTiTEs:"  as  we  read:  "Then  did  Solomon  build  a  high  place  for 
Chemosh,  the  abomination  of  Moab,  in  the  hUl  that  is  before  Jerusa- 
lem." 1  Kings  xi.  7.  Chebios  is  supposed  by  St.  Jerome  to  be  the 
same  with  the  heathen  Priapos.  Therefore,  when  Rubeta  found  a 
devil  in  the  convent,  his  penetration  told  him  at  once  which  one  of  the 
infernal  Powers  it  must  be.        ** 

*  See  Visit,  etc. :  and,  for  a  justificaiiou  of  this  adoption  of  the  sacred  language, 
when  made  by  such  a  man  as  Rubeta,  see  our  note  to  v.  653  of  Canto  ii.        *  * 


Gallic fi'd  the  DevU  o'er  n^ny  face  supmc, 
Aaol^  svaUer  'd.  as  /u  went,  kis  noil  und  hrln/i. 


.  Ca,fUo3  F  nis 


CANTO  THIRD.  139 

And  the  casks  bellow'd  fear-struck,  in  a  trice, 
Out  rush'd  ten  thousand  imps,  in  shapes  of  mice  ; 
Imp  upon  imp  ;  not  such  their  number,  when, 
Wing'd  on  the  sulphurous  air,  in  form  like  men 
Long  since  create,  they  sped,  at  signal  given,  85 

Their  horizontal  flight,  in  scorn  of» Heaven, 
Over  Hell's  concave.     He  that  knew  their  stock, 
And  coats  transmuted,  scarce  had  stood  the  shock 
Were  his  soul  double-leather.    Not  so  I : 
Though   shriek'd    the   nuns,  my   brand   I   flourish'd 
high,  90 

And  smote  the  infernal  legion,  hip  and  thigh. 
Out,  pup  of  Baal  !  —  I  cry'd,  —  Black  Peor's  brood, 
RuBETA  smites  ye  !     Not  one  devil  stood. 

Ver.  82.  —  ten  thousand,  etc.]  It  is  not  wonderful  that  he  who  could 
laugh  at  Rubeta's  idea  of  the  devil  murine  should  rail  at  this  numer- 
osity,  and  accordingly  Mons.  Bayle  facetiously  terms  this  figure,  which 
is  but  a  kind  of  synecdoche,  a  periphobic  hyperbole !  assigning  it  the 
same  origin  with  the  use  of  the  word  hispid,  (v.  67,)  to  express  what  in 
the  eyes  of  any  other  man,  Pat  Doolan  for  instance,  could  only  be  soft 
and  fine  hair.         *  * 

83.  —  not  such  their  number,  when,  —  Winged  on  the  sulphurous  air, 
etc.]     See  Milton  :  Par.  L.  i.  751,  etc. 

89.  —  soul  —  ]  Sole  in  some  MSS.  It  is  of  no  consequence,  though 
we  prefer  the  reading  in  the  text.  Rubeta's  love  of  the  elegant 
species  of  pleasantry  vulgarly  called  pun,  we  have  before  remarked. 

*  * 

90.  —  shriek'd  the  nuns  —  ]  For  fear  he  should  knock  down  more 
barrels.     Bayle. 

92.  —  Pmos  —  ]     Another  name  for  Chemos. 

Peor  his  other  name,  when  he  entic'd 

Israel  in  Sittim  on  their  march  from  Nile 

To  do  him  wanton  rites Par.  Lost,  i.  412. 


140  THE  VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

With  horrid  squeaks,  they  fled  on  lightning-feet, 
And  bore  to  Hell  the  news  of  their  defeat.  95 

I  wip'd  my  brow,  and  breath'd.     Then  round  me 
pour 
The  nuns'  congratulations  in  a  show'r ; 
Brief  notes  of  exclamation,  flattering  names  ; 
While  bursts  of  laughter  shook  their  happy  frames. 
E'en  DooLAN,  joyful,  shouted  in  his  glee,  loo 

Och,  dear,  St.  Patrick  was  a  fool  to  ye  ! 

Sweet  friends  !  —  I  said,  —  enough.     Yet,  did  ye 
know 
What  powers  I  've  beat  —  Mice,  sure  !  —  A  direr  foe. 
In  the  dread  rout,  which  flash'd  your  cavern  o'er. 
Six  thousand  devils  had  their  backs  made  sore.       io5 

What !    were   they  devils  ?     Heavens !    what  a 
crowd  ! 
And  the  glad  sisters  once  more  laugh'd  aloud. 

When  tir'd  they  ceas'd,  (though,  sooth,  I  blush'd 
deep  red 
To  be  so  flatter'd,)  bending  low  my  head, 
O  ye,  —  I  add,  —  who  sleep  alone  of  nights,  no 

Foes  to  the  double-bed  and  nuptial  rites  I 

Ver.  105.  Six  thousand  —  ]  Most  of  the  commentators  and  critics 
are  very  merry  at  this  lapse  of  Rubeta's.  The  hero,  say  they,  was 
either  lying,  (and  the  memory  on  such  occasions  is  seldom  very  exact,) 
or  had  not  yet  recovered  from  the  confusion  of  his  fright.  Bayle  says, 
Both.  For  our  own  part,  we  do  not  see  why  we  should  not  read  here, 
as  in  V.  82,  Ten  tlwusand.        *  * 


CANTO   THIRD.  141 

Cool  though  ye  see  me  stand,  by  Heav'n  I  swear 

My  heart  perspires  for  every  turnip  there  ! 

If  such,  not  relics  of  some  erring  sister 

(Penn'd  in  yon  barrel  by  the  priest  who  kist  her,  ii5 

She  and  her  embryon-friar,  to  die  like  brutes  !) 

By  Hell  thus  metamorphos'd  into  roots ; 

(Else  was   the   voice,  which  thunder'd  Heave  them 

down  ! 
Black  Chemos'  own,  who  envies  my  renown ;)  — 
A  voice  !     What   voice  ?  —  A  voice  ye  could  not 

hear :  120 

A  voice  assurn'd  to  prove,  or  vex  my  ear. 
Whate'er  the  cause,  thus  much  :   let  maids  believe. 
We  do,  dread   chief.      But   pray,  what  ails  your 

sleeve  ? 
I  turn'd  my  wrist,  and  saw  an  awful  sight. 
That  pass'd  unnotic'd  in  the  coil  of  fight.  125 

A  nail,  in  some  vile  cask,  had  caught  the  stuff, 
And  ripp'd  it,  from  the  shoulder  to  the  cuff! 

Ver.  112.  Cool  though  ye  see  me  stand  —  ]  It  is  ask'd  how  comes  the 
Rat-subduer  so  cool,  who  in  v.  96  is  so  heated  ?  It  is  answered,  the 
same  eagerness  of  vindication  (arising  from  his  intuitive  and  thorough- 
bred politeness)  which  made  him  swear,  though  more  adverse  to  solemn 
asseveration  than  even  the  Fox  of  the  fable,*  wiped  away  all  sense  of 
his  fatigue  and  superhuman  exertions,  and  threw  the  perspiration  on  his 
heart        *  * 

*  A  fox,  full-fraught  with  seeming  sanctity, 

That  fear'cl  an  oath,  but  like  the  Devil  would  lie ; 
Who  look'd  like  Lent,  and  had  the  holy  leer, 
And  durst  not  sin  before  he  said  his  pray'r. 

Cock  and  the  Fox,  by  Dryden. —  Con'ector. 


142  THE   VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

Fain  would  the  fair  with  pins  close  up  the  rent. 
Honor  and  sense  forbade  :  —  'T  were  time  misspent ; 
Homeward  now  hies  the  Sun  to  Thetis'  lap.  i30 

Haste,  gentle  Doolan,  then,  and  lift  the  trap. 

And  ishnH  it  then  harfd  7  grim  Pat  replj'd  :  — 
But  for  your  sake  I  HI  looshe  him  V  other  side. 
Your  honor  shmells  a  rat,  tis  plain  to  see. 
King  of  the  traps,  och,  who  can  catch  like  ye  !  135 

Pale  as  the  youth  in  toil  of  passion  caught 
For  soulless  dame,  who  means  to  grant  him  naught, 

Ver.  129.  Honor  and  sense  forbade  —  ]  That  is,  glory  (or,  the  love 
of  glory)  and  good  sense  ;  the  two  distinguishing  traits  in  the  Ragged 
Sleeve's  remarkable  character:  nowhere  more  conspicuous  perhaps, 
especially  the  latter,  than  in  his  recent  exertions  in  the  cause  of  Animal 
Magnetism.        *  * 

We  beg  the  liberty  to  enter  our  humble  dissent  from  the  Editor's  in- 
terpretation. The  more  probable,  as  well  as  plainer,  sense  of  the  pas- 
sage seems  to  us  to  be :  Honor,  which  bade  him  make  haste  to  finish 
the  task  he  had  undertaken,  and  Common  Sense,  which  whispered  it 
was  foolish  to  regard  a  torn  sleeve  when  "the  trap"  was  so  soon  to  hide 
the  injury.  —  My  boy  advises  me  that  honor  and  sense  may  signify  merely 
a  sense  of  honor,  by  a  figure  of  speech,  which,  he  says,  is  very  com- 
mon in  the  classic  poets.  As  Re  beta's  devotion  to  these  ancient  idols 
is  so  well  known,  I  am  not  sure  but  the  stripling  is  wiser  than  both 
of  us.     Corrector. 

132, 133.  — grim  Pat  reply' d :  —  "  But  for  your  sake  I  HI  looshe  him  V  other 
strfe."]  It  is  really  refreshing  as  well  as  delightful,  to  observe  the  effect 
which  great  virtue,  of  whatever  kind,  has  even  upon  a  prejudiced  and 
stubborn  mind.  This  world  is  surely  not  so  bad  as  some  bad  people 
would  have  it!         *  * 

136-145.  Pale  as  the  youth,  etc.]  Rubeta  must  mean  to  describe 
unlawful  passion,  as  he  uses  tlie  word  dame,  where  nymph  would  be 
more  poetical.     Vet.  Schol. 

Very  absurd.  What  should  Rubeta  know  of  unlawful  passion  ? 
though,  it  is  true,  such  case  as  is  here  described  is  common  enough. 


CANTO  THIRD.  143 

Yet  fascinates  the  while  with  serpent-art, 

And  feeds  her  vanity  upon  his  heart ; 

Nor  night  nor  day  gives  solace  to  his  breast,  140 

Scorch'd  with  desire,  and  frenzy'd  with  unrest ; 

Yet  paid,  fond  fool !  for  aching  heart  and  brain, 

When,  after  hours  of  watching,  cramp'd  with  pain, 

He  sees,  as  slow  her  lattices  unclose. 

Ecstatic  joy  !   his  angel  blow  her  nose.  i45 

Thus  stood  I  at  the  edge.     O  who  had  seen. 

In  that  dread  hour,  those  maids  of  peerless  mien, 

Waiting,  with  eyes  all  brine,  and  mouths  askew, 

To  see  the  abyss  ingulf  me  from  their  view, 

O  who,  of  woman  born,  their  love  had  seen,  150 

Nor  shed  his  water  though  nine  times  hoop'd  in  ? 


However,  there  be  coy  nymphs  as  well ;  with  which  class  the  hero  is  a 
very  Albertus :  witness  the  following  master-stroke,  from  that  master- 
piece, the  Mysterious  Bridal :  — 

— "  unimpressible  even  by  waking  visions  of  bliss  wiih  the  fair  Christina 
Diefendorff  in  his  warm  embrace  :  " 

A  passage  which  shows,  with  singular  felicity,  the  rise,  progress,  and 
ultimate  reach  of  love,  in  a  single  sentence.         *  * 

143.  Waiting,  with  eyes  all  brine  and  mouth  askew,]  Whereon  com- 
menting, the  same  critic  whom  we  have  so  often  quoted  in  this  particular 
adventure,  says  it  was  with  some  other  emotion  than  grief.  It  is  uncer- 
tain whether  the  Poet  was  of  his  opinion,  (that  the  Rat-router  was  de- 
ceived,) or  of  ours  (that  he  judged  impartially) :  but  it  is  certain,  that  the 
man  must  have  a  very  bad  heart  who  can  suspect  the  nuns  of  laughing 
at  such  a  moment.         *  * 

151.  JVor  shed  his  ivater  —  ]  Understand  from  the  eyes,  all  the  com- 
mentators and  critics  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding.         *  * 

We  could  wish,  however,  that  the  modest  Editor  had  let  us  see  some 
of  their  opinions.     Corrector. 


144  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Who  but  that  's  buckled  up,  from  toe  to  heel, 

111  panoply  of  Duty's  triple  steel  ? 

Who  's  harness'd  thus  may  brave  an  angel's  tears, 

Nor  'gainst  Ligeia's  self  need  stop  the  ears.  i55 

But  lo  !  the  trap-door  opens,  and  a  face, 
Red  as  the  Sun,  floats  upward  in  the  space. 
So  bounds  Troxartes'  image  from  the  toy, 
Touch'd  slily  by  the  thumb  of  some  great  boy ; 
Whose  little  brother,  frighted  and  amaz'd,  160 

Starts  back.     I  started  too :   but,  as  I  gaz'd 
The  glowing  disk  Pat's  single  eye  reveal'd. 
Glaring  portentous  o'er  the  twilight  field. 
Thus  comets  from  their  distance  seem  opake, 
Till    some    bright   star   shines   through   their    flimsy 
make.  165 

And  now,  all  ready  to  descend  the  pit. 
My  grave  perhaps,  or  worse,  the  grave  of  wit ; 

Ver.  158.  —  TaozAntEs  —  ]  One  of  Homer's  mice.  We  hope  the 
use  of  this  name,  and  that  of  the  Siren  above  (v.  155),  will  convince  the 
most  skeptical  that  the  hero  is  a  man  of  erudition.  For  who  but  such  a 
one  could  know  them?  And  accordingly  the  commentators,  who  hither- 
to have  taken  a  pleasure  to  ridicule  his  pretensions  to  knowledge,  are 
silent  at  this  passage  ;  undoubtedly  struck  dumb  by  their  convictions. 
We  must  except,  however,  one  critic,  the  pliilosophic  J\l.  Bayle  ;  who 
exclaims,  at  this  part,  Vraiinent,  c^est  un  savantasse  trks-amusanL  que 
notre  hiros !        *  * 

167,  178.  My  grave,  perhaps,  or  tvorse,  the  grave  of  toil ;  —  (Learning 
itself  might  perish  there  ;  who  kneic  .')]  A  climax  of  anticipated  horrors 
that  deserves  remarking.  It  occurs  to  the  hero,  first,  tliat  he  might  be 
going  to  bury  himself  in  the  abyss:  this  little  moves  him.  But  his  wit 
may  be  quenched  for  ever  in  the  gloom  and  terrors  (or,  as  others  wish,  in 


CANTO  THIRD.  145 

(Learning  itself  might  perish  there  ;  who  knew !) 
To  fame  and  light  I  breath'd  this  sad  adieu  :  — 

Oh  doorless  domicile  !  oh  senseless  sheets,  no 

Where  each  new  stain  some  filthier  brother  meets  ! 

the  mephitic  damps)  of  that  Stygian  pit.  Horror  of  horrors !  his  very 
learning,  that  on  which  he  most  prides  liimself,  (and  for  which,  we  may 
add,  his  countrymen  are  most  indebted  to  him,)  may  there  forsake  liira 
for  ever !  the  impression  of  past  studies  be  rased  eternally  from  the 
brazen  tables  of  his  brain,  and  memory  become  a  chaos  of  jostling 
images  and  phrases  less  connected  than  the  babble  of  his  contemporary, 
Petronius  ! 

Batle,  following  up  his  fancy,  is  very  merry  upon  this  occasion : 
RuBETA,  he  says,  who  best  knew  what  his  wits  were,  was  afraid  they 
would  run  away  from  him  in  the  dark  !  Void  le  Mros  des  nonnettes  dans 
nn  cirange  embarras !  il  a  peur  que  la  raison  ne  lui  aille  ichappcr. 
Sans  doute,  personne  ne  savait  mieux  que  hii  comme  elle  a  une  grande 
faciliti  de  s^^garer.  See  his  Observations  sur  la  Vie  du  Colonel  RuhHe  ; 
Melanges  Historiques,  Edition  de  Miaco,  in-4to.,  tome  A%  p.  77 :  or  the 
translation  of  the  same  work  recently  imprinted,  with  great  elegance, 
at  Passamaquoddy,  in  imitation  of  the  Paris  ed,  of  1812,  9  vols.  8vo. 
Vol.  VIII.  p.  63.         *  * 

170.  Oh  doorless  domicile !  —  ]  The  palace,  study,  "  snuggery,"  museum, 
rendered  illustrious,  as  the  dwelling  of  Rubeta,  eternal,  as  the  scene  of 
his  lucubrations,  and  holy,  as  the  spot  whither,  in  the  absence  of  his 
lawful  spouse,  he  led  the  inspired,  unreluctant  fair,  whose  sightless  orbs, 
though  windowed  with  bottle-green  lenses,  and  wadded  close  with 
"cotton  batts,"  pierce  through  the  dark  equally  well  (we  speak  it  rever- 
ently) with  "the  eye  of  Om.mpotence." 

We  can  throw  a  light  on  the  above  note  only  by  referring  to  certain  passages  from 
Rubeta's  "  Letter  on  Animal  Rlagnetism." 

—  "my  house,  to  which  I  endeavoured  to  lead  her.  The  house  is  No.  36  Church  street 
—  is  very  peculiar  in  its  construction  —  having  no  door  upon  the  street"  —  p.  31,  1st 
edition. 

Be  it  observed  in  passing,  that  it  was  only  in  imagination,  and  "  through  the  air," 
that  the  hero,  who  is  "used  to  these  excursions"  (as  everybody  knows  that  reads 
liim)  led  the  "  clairvoyante"  ;  for,  the  soul  of  propriety,  he  never  would  have 
thouixht  of  doing  so  in  fact.  —  "Snuggery"  and  "cotton  batts"  arc  elegant  ex- 
pressions used  in  his  Letter  by  this  master  of  English,  and  rival  of  Petronius  : 
and  for  the  former,  we  gather  from  the  Papers  of  the  Pickwick  Club  (pt.  iv.  p.  137. 
Phil.),  that  there  is  a  little  closet  in  the  Fleet  prison  whicli  bears  the  same  choice 

19 


146  THE    VISION   OF   UUBETA. 

No  more  self-blazon'd  shall  your  lord  appear, 
Poet,  historian,  nov'list,  pamphleteer  ! 
Oh  loveliest  book  that  ever  cumber'd  stall. 
Where  all  Manhattan's  costive  infants  squall,       175 

title.  —  A  card  being  handed  to  the  inspired  Miss  Loraina,  so  enveloped  "  in  a 
thick  blue  paper  "'  that,  as  the  writer  of  it  said,  no  other  than  the  eye  of  Omnipotence 
could  read  it,  the  superhuman  Miss  Loraina  "  did  not  take  it  to  bed  with  her,  but 
retired  into  a  dark  room  to  make  it  out,"  and,  "  before  morning,"  as  Rubkta  de- 
poneth,  actually  did  read  it;  whence  it  follows  that  the  miraculous  Miss  Loraina 
is  omnipotent,  a  conclusion  both  perfectly  sensible  and  allowable  on  the  part  of  an 
"  evangelical  Christian  "  like  our  hero  ;  for,  as  he  says  himself,  albeit  his  brains  are 
zigzag,  there  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth  than  are  dreamed  of  in  our  philoso- 
phy (p.  61) ;  and  again,  if  testimony  like  that  to  lohich  he  has  referred,  is  to  be  rejected, 
where  are  we  to  look  for  the  proofs  of  the  miracles  sustaining  the  divine  origin  of  the 
Christian  religion  ?     (p.  59.) 

172,  173.  Self-blazon^d,  etc.]  Refers  to  Rubeta's  bringing  out  his 
own  children  in  his  own  newspaper  (the  "sheets"  before  mentioned) ; 
of  wliicli  we  liave  given  one  example  in  the  notes  to  Canto  ii.  Isaac 
Vossius  would  have  it  that  the  sheets  are  of  his  bed,  which  he  fears 
he  shall  never  more  revisit !     "  Quanto  rectius,  &c."         *  * 

174-177.  Oh  loveliest  book,  etc.]  "The  New  York  Book  of  Poetry, 
1  vol.  New  York:  Geo.  Dearborn.  —  A  very  pretty  volume,  of  very 
pretty  poetry,  etc.  etc.  We  make  one  or  two  selections."  JV.  Y.  Jim. 
Dec.  31,  1836.  The  first  selection  is  thus,  (we  quote  the  first  of  its 
four  stanzas:)  — 


"HE  CAME  TOO  LATE!— BY  MISS 


"  He  came  loo  late  !  neglect  had  tried 

Her  constancy  too  long  ; 
Her  love  had  yielded  to  her  pride, 

And  tlie  deep  sense  of  wrong. 
She  scorned  the  offering  of  a  heart 

Which  lingered  on  its  way, 
Till  it  could  no  delight  impart. 

Nor  spread  one  cheering  ray.'"     etc,  etc. 

"  What  delicacy,"  (exclaims  the  enraptured  Petronius,)  "  what 
delicacy,  what  lofty  conception  of  the  nature  of  genuine  affection,  what 
womanly  tenderness  is  there  in  these  beautiful  stanzas."  Did  we  not 
know  him  to  be  a  BcEotian, 

Vervecum  in  patria,  crassoque  sub  aere,  nasci,* 
we  should  think  he  were  jesting,  or  were  paying,  at  the  expense  of  his 

*  Jijv.  X.  50.        ** 


CANTO  THIRD.  147 

Close  your  white  leaves ;  the  swan  no  more  shall  sinir. 
That  made,  for  you,  a  dunce  of  Israel's  kin"- ! 

conscience,  one  of  those  compliments  to  the  sex  which  arc  usually  man- 
ufactured by  a  kind  of  men  who  think  that  women  will  swallow  any 
falsehood  or  absurdity  provided  it  be  meant  to  be  flattering.  The  other 
selection  is  "  A  Visit  from  St.  Nicholas.  —  By  C.  C.  Moore:'  ( —  pucri- 
que  patresque  severi  carmina  dictant.*)    En  void  k  style  : 

"A  bundle  of  toys  he  had  Hung-  on  his  back, 
And  he  look'd  hke  a  pedlar  just  opening-  liis  pack."  etc.  etc. 

"  The  stump  of  a  pipe  he  held  tight  in  his  teeth, 
And  the  smoke  it  encircled  his  head  like  a  wreath. 
He  had  a  broad  face  and  a  little  round  belly, 
That  shook,  when  he  lauglfd,  like  a  bowl  full  of  jelly."  etc  etc. 

Vos  6  patricius  sa?igids,  qiios  vivere  fas  est 
Occipiti  cceco,  posticee  occurrite  sannse.f 

We  regret  to  see  this  nonsense  from  so  very  respectable  a  man :  but 

When  grave  professors  stoop  to  folly 
And  find  too  late  the  Muse  betray,  t 

we  have  nothing  left  us  but  to  do  our  duty.  Such  trash  is  not  to  be 
given  to  the  public  as  pretty  poetry,  though  it  were  the  product  of  the 
whole  faculty  § : 

Hos  pueris  monitus  patres  infundere  lippos 

Cum  videas,  quErisne  unde  hsec  sartago  loquendi 

V^enerit  in  linguas  ?  || 

P.  S.  Some  time  after  the  above  was  written,  we  fell  over  the  book 
and  found  that  Rony's  unhappy  friendship  had  unjustly  libelled  it  in  his 
selections.  It  is  really  what  he  meant  to  have  it  appear,  a  very  pretty 
look  of  very  pretty  poetry.  Many  pieces  might  we  cite  tliat  would  justi- 
fy his  high  eulogium;  but,  simply  noticing  the  following  lovely  and 
sensible  lines   "  By  C.  F.  Hoffman  " : 

"  There  are  birds  in  the  woodland  bowers 

Voices  in  lonely  dells, 
And  streams  that  talk  to  the  listening  hours 

In  eartli's  most  secret  cells. 
There  is  life  ou  the  foam-fleck'd  sand 

By  ocean's  curling  lip," 

(Lord  Btron  always  professed  himself  very   intimate    with    Am- 

*  HoR.  ad  Augiistum.  v.  lO'J.  ed.  Gesn.        *  *  t  Pers.  i.  <il.  Casauh.         *  * 

X  Parody  of  Goldsmith.        *  * 

^  Mr.  Moore  is  a  professor  at  the  Theol.  Seminary  in  N.  V.        *  * 

II  Pers.  i.  79.        ** 


148  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Oh  Dearborn,  oh  !     Frigidity  and  Rant 
Must  leave  unsepulchrud  the  name  of  Brajnt  ! 


phitrite.  Perhaps  he  taiiglit  her  tJuit  trick  of  the  mouth  for  which 
Miss  Landon  makes  him  so  remarkable.  Of  course  it  is  her  upper 
lip  which  is  here  intended ;) 

"There  is  life  on  the  foam-fleck'd  sand 

liy  ocean's  curhng  hp, 
And  life  on  the  still  lake's  strand 

'Mid  flowers  that  o'er  it  dip  ; 
There  is  life  in  the  tossing  pines 

That  plume  the  mountain  crest, 
And  life  in  the  courser's  mane  that  shines 

As  he  scours  the  desert's  breast :  " 

we  pass  to  that  long  poem,  to  which  all  the  rest  of  the  volume,  includ- 
ing the  little  Cupid  of  the  frontispiece,  sitting  on  the  stock  of  an  anchor, 
on  top  of  the  ocean,  shooting  at  a  sheep's  lieart  on  a  mountain,  —  to  which 
even  this  is  nothing,  —  that  exquisite  effusion  on  the  Sepulchre  of  David, 
published  under  the  assumed  name  of  "  VVm.  L.  Stoine,"  (the  author  being 
really  Rubeta,  as  the  text  will  prove,)  an  effusion  which  equals  the 
enchanting  melodies  of  "  Thos.  Sternhold,  John  Hopkins,  and 
others,"  and  like  them  may  be  «  set  forth  and  allowed  to  be  sung  of  all 
the  people  together,  in  private  houses,  for  their  godly  solace  and 
comfort." 

And  now,  Reader,  the  clerk  having  given  out  the  number,  and  the 
pitchpipe  being  struck,  let  us  sing,  to  the  praise  and  glory  of  "Stone," 
these  thirty-two  verses  of  his  Davido-Sepulchral  Psalm,  uncommon 
metre : 

•'  lie  cast  his  anxious  eye  "  Death  came  upon  the  blast ; 

Where  slept  great  David's  son,  As  by  the  lurid  light 

Where  Wisdo?iis  ashes  lie,  They  saw  that  he  had  passed, 

The  peerless  Solomon.'  And  triumphed  in  iiis  might : 

"  He  rais'd  his  ruthless  arm  "  For  on  the  chilly  ground, 

Against  the  low-arched  wall —  Inanimate  as  clay. 

While  wild  and  dread  alarm  The  troubled  monarch  found 

Rang  through  the  vaulted  hall.  His  favourite  captains  lay. 

"  Loud  on  the  monarch's  ear  "  Aghast  and  pale  he  fled,  — 

Broke  the  hoarse  thunder's  crash —  And  shook  through  every  limb  — 

And  blazed  around  the  bier  Cold  drops  rolled  down  his  head, 

The  vivid  lightning's  flash.  Lest  death  should  follow  him ! 


CANTO  THIRD.  149 

I  said,  and  sighing,  bow'd  mc  to  descend  ;  ibo 

But  fifty  hands  held  back  my  nether  end. 


"  He  raised  a  marble  fane  "  And  oft  in  after  years 

Upon  the  hallowed  spot  He  woke  in  wild  affright, 

But  ne'er,  O  ne'er  again  And  wailed  with  scalding  tears, 

Could  that  night  be  forgot !  The  deed  of  that  dread  night !  " 

Sperare  nefas  sit  vatibus  ultra.*  Whoever  shall  read  this  psalm,  shall 
think,  indeed,  Homer  but  a  frogfight-singer,  and  Virgil  the  tame  poet 
of  a  gnat  : 

"Ccdite  Roinani  scriptores,  ceditc  Graii," 
Et  quos  fama  rcccns  vel  celebravit  anus. 
HiEC  quicunque  leget  tantum  cecinisse  putabit 
Maeonidem  ranas,  Virgilium  culices. 

(Sam.  Baurow,  in  Miltoni  Parad.  Amissam.) 

The  only  thing  that  can  at  all  come  up  to  it  is  "Midnight  Thoughts," 
in  the  same  book,  "  by  Wm.  Duer  "  ( (^uid  si  idem,  &c.  ?f )  the  President, 
we  believe,  of  Columbia  College  in  N.  York,  being  an  address  to  the 
Moon,  or,  as  the  poet  there  calls  it,  with  equal  originality  and  reverence, 
"  Th'  Almighty's  sentinel."     En  pallor,  seniumque  !  X 

Having  given  unabridged  the  Author's  ironical  compliments,  we  beg  the  Reader's 
attention  to  a  few  serious  remarks  of  our  own.  In  this  same  "  New  York  Book  of 
Poetry,"  there  are  some  exceptions  to  the  character  of  drivelling  insipidity  and  puerile 
romance  which  makes  the  contents  so  worthy  the  vulgarity  of  the  title.  Foremost  of 
these  exceptions  we  would  place  the  masculine  Lines  to  a  Skull,  a  translation  from 
the  German,  "  by  D.  Seymour."  The  taste  and  ability,  which  this  liule  piece  dis- 
plays, correspond  very  well  with  the  character  of  the  writer,  of  whom  we  have  heard 
enough  to  make  us  wonder  that  we  have  not  hoard  more.  A  man  who  was  master  of 
five  languages  besides  his  own  before  he  was  nineteen,  two  of  which  (the  Greek  and 
Latin)  are  so  little  well-known  in  this  country,  and  who  united,  at  the  same  earlj'  age, 
in  a  most  elastic  mind,  the  judgment  of  maturity  with  the  fire  of  youth,  combining  a 
correctness  of  taste,  almost  extinct  in  the  present  generation,  with  a  most  retentive 
memory,  and  habits  of  methodical  application  very  uncommon  in  a  man  of  genius, 
such  a  man,  a  man  moreover  so  honorable  and  highmiiided,  as  I  hear  that  he  is,  should 
be  doing  more  than  laboring  in  the  drudgery  of  a  profession  which  he  is  not  forced 
to  practise,  or  than  writing  pieces  which  can  confer  no  lasting  reputation,  nor  even 
such  a  temporary  one  as  a  person  of  his  rare  abilities  is  bound  to  aspire  to. 

Having  done  this  act  of  justice,  let  us  ask,  how  it  happens  that  the  N.  York  Review, 
(No.  ii.,)  in  noticing  the  Book  of  Poetry,  selects  for  commendation  the  nursery- 
rhymes  of  Prof.  Moore,  and  the  romantic  stuff  of  Mr.  Hoffman,  while  it  passes 
entirely  the  verses  of  Mr.  Seymour,  and  the  other  few  pieces  which  show  something 

*  ViDjE  Poet.        ** 

t  ViRG.  Ed.  V.  9.     "  Quid,  si  idem  certet  Phoebum  superare  canendo  ?  "        *  * 

tPERS.  i.  26.        ** 


150  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

First  of  the  line,  Fretille  and  Boiteuse  stand, 
Botli  clinging  to  one  skirt  with  cither  hand ; 

like  good  sense,  strong  thought,  and  felicitous  expression  ?  Was  it  that  Mr.  H. 
is  tlie  editor  of  a  Magazine,  and  Prof.  Moore  an  influential  member  of  society, 
and  of  connexions  influential  in  society,  and  that  both  were  possibly  personal  friends 
of  the  Reviewers  ?  A  want  of  independence,  in  a  Review  which  ))rofesses  to  be  im- 
partial, is  a  want  of  honesty.        *  * 

178,  179.  Oh  DEAniionxr,  oh  !  Frigidity  and  Rant  —  Must  leave  unsepul- 
chred  the  name  of  Braxt.''\  On  tlie  cover  of  the  pamphlet  of  Animal 
Magnetism  are  "  Proposals,  by  George  Dearborn  &  Co.,  for  publish- 
ing by  subscription  the  Life  of  Joseph  Brant,"  (by  Rubeta,)  "  at  the 
low  price  of  Three  Dollars  and  fifty  cents."  We  cannot  but  congratu- 
late tlie  public  on  the  prospect  thus  afforded  them  of  a  rich  historical 
treat  from  the  pen  of  the  author  of  A  Letter  on  Animal  Magnetism, 
The  angelic  simplicity,  delightful  credulity,  and  amazing  acquaintance 
•with  the  intellectual  and  moral  system  of  humanity,  displayed  in  this 
latter  publication,  are  the  best  warrant  to  the  subscribers  of  the  forth- 
coming history  that  their  money  will  be  well  bestowed.*         ** 

180.  /  said —  ]  The  hero's  pathetic  adieu  to  glory  and  this  upper  air 
is  evidently  an  imitation  of  a  most  beautiful  apostrophe,  in  the  Aristodc- 
mo  of  Monti.  A  man  of  Rubeta's  constant  and  various  reading,  of 
his  wonderful  judgment,  and  prodigious  memory,  a  man  so  keenly  alive 
to  the  beautiful  in  nature  and  in  art,  it  may  easily  be  supposed  would 
have  the  impression  of  many  such  passages  constantly  threading  the 
"  zigzags  "  of  his  brain  ;  and  indeed  this  fact  is  daily  illustrated.  But 
the  lines  in  Aristodemus  are  these: 

Oh  dirupi  d'llbme,  oh  sacre  sponde 

Del  sonante  Ladone  e  del  Pamiso, 

Pill  non  udrete  dellc  mie  vitlorie 

I  cantici  guerrieri !    Oh  rcggia,  oh  casa 

De'  generosi  Eraclidi,  infamata 

E  di  sangue  innocente  ancor  vermiglia, 

*  One  of  Rlef.ta's  hostile  contemporaries  accused  the  historian  of  being  seen 
everywhere  soliciting  people  to  subscribe  to  his  book.  We  thought  the  accusa- 
tion mere  scandal,  till  we  heard  with  our  own  ears  one  of  the  most  respectable  men 
in  Ps'kw  York  assert  that  he  himself  had  been  taken  in  by  a  personal  application; 
which,  of  course,  there  was  no  resisting,  especially  "  at  the  low  price  of  Three 
Dollars  and  Jiflij  cents."  Such  being  the  case,  we  consider  that  the  hero's  alms- 
begging  is  to  be  ascribed  not  to  the  mere  love  of  lucre,  nor  yet  of  notoriety,  but  to 
that  anxiety  for  the  welfare  of  other  men's  souls  and  understanding,  which,  as  in 
the  case  of  Cato  (Canto  i.),  obliges  him  to  thrust  the  means  of  good  upon  them, 
lest,  if  left  to  their  own  inclinations,  they  might  neglect  them.  Accordingly,  at  a 
late  lecture,  urged  by  the  same  high  motive,  he  took  occasion  to  give  his  audience 
a  gentle  hint  to  the  same  effect,  a.s  will  be  seen  in  a  note  to  Canto  iv.         *  "^ 


Off  001  ncs  the.   skirt.dis/ufntecf  by  tkt  y  I  rain, 
And  sfa^^er/71^  backward,  down  feflalLtke  traun 


Ca.nto3  p.  I  SI 


CANTO   THIRD.  151 

Fast  to  their  robes  two  other  sisters  grow ; 

To  these  two  more  ;  and  so,  through  all  the  row.  185 

Off  comes  the  skirt,  disjointed  by  the  strain, 

And,  staggering  backward,  down  fell  all  the  train. 

I  seiz'd  the  lucky  moment,  gain'd  th'  abyss, 

And  left  them  bawling  for  my  tail  to  kiss ; 

Happy,  who  could  console  herself  with  this !  lOO 

Adown,  majestically  slow,  I  sunk, 
Step  after  step,  till  disappear'd  my  trunk. 
Then  finally  descends  my  beaver'd  head. 
And  light  no  more  on  awestruck  mortals  shed  ; 

Ricoprili  d'  orror,  piomba  sul  capo 
D'un  empio  padre,  e  nelle  tue  rovine 
L'infamia  tua  nascondi  e  il  mio  delitto  ! 
Alto  iii.  Sc.  2.  ( Tragedie  del  Monti  ;  ed.  5ta  Fiorentina,  p.  62. 

It  would  not  be  easy  to  find  any  thing  in  poetry  more  melodious  ;  and 
(as  those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  tragedy  well  know)  nothing  can 
be  of  more  exact  propriety.        *  * 

194.  And  light  no  more  on  awestruck  mortals  shed ;'\  Ursinus  under- 
stands the  verse  as  having  allusion  to  the  lustre  of  his  talents ;  Ponta- 
NU3,  as  simply  expressing  the  brilliancy  of  his  visual  organs,  whereof, 
as  we  had  frequent  occasion  to  see,  the  "  Captain  of  the  Veils"  was 
particularly  and  justly  proud.  Both  conjectures  are  correct ;  for  there 
are  two  meanings  included  in  the  phrase ;  the  more  obvious  one,  that  of 
PoNTANUs,  the  other  of  Ursinus.  The  elder  Vossius,  choosing  a 
middle  path,  writes,  the  eifulgence  of  his  countenance  as  illuminated 
by  the  mind  within,  as  well  as  by  the  radiance  of  the  organs  of  vision: 
and  it  is  to  be  observed  that  these  latter  may  draw  their  very  beauty 
from  the  mind,  according  to  Akenside.*    However,  Joseph  Scahger 

*  3Iind,  mind  alone,  (bear  witness.  Earth  and  Heaven  !) 
The  living  fountains  in  itself  contains 
Of  beauteous  and  sublime  ; 


And  again : 


Thus  doth  Beauty  dwell 
There  most  conspicuous,  even  in  outward  shape, 
Where  dawns  the  high  expression  of  a  mind. 

Pleas,  of  Imagin.  Book  i. 


152  THE  VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

As  when  the  moon  o'erfloods  the  arch  with  light,     195 
And  none  but  brightest  planets  share  the  night, 
Wrapt  in  a  silver-purflcd  cloud  retires 
Some  brilliant  orb,  and  veils  his  modest  fires. 
Far  as  from  ceiling  downward  to  the  floor 
The  cavern  jawns,  twice  such  a  depth,  and  more,  200 

confines  the  application  of  the  phrase  to  the  sisterhood,  who  (he  says) 
stood,  or  lay,  to  tlie  crown  of  Rubeta's  head,  now  slowly  setting  below 
the  verge  of  the  pit,  in  tlie  relation  of  those  who  on  earth  gaze  pen- 
sively at  a  brilliant  planet  about  to  be  swallowed  up  by  a  cloud ;  an 
interpretation  which,  as  favored  by  tlie  simile  immediately  following  in 
the  text,  does  not  displease  me.  Yet,  even  in  this  case,  the  epithet 
"awestruck,"  or,  as  Isaac  Vossius  boldly  reads  it,  sliddering,  for  which 
ScHEFFER  proposes  to  substitute  siumhling,  and  the  learned  Salma- 
sius,  so  famous  for  the  controversy  which  he  had  with  Milton,  more 
elegantly,  but  less  strongly,  supplies  erring,  even  here,  the  epithet, 
though  directly  applicable  to  the  vestals,  bears  a  reflected  adaptation  to 
mortals  in  general.  But  Scioppius  suspects  that  the  word  "  mortals  " 
is  an  error  which  has  crept  into  the  text,  and  tells  us  he  remembers 
having  seen  a  copy  which  read  virgins :  and  I  have  myself  heard  it 
reported  that  a  mutilated  Codex,  in  the  possession  of  Father  Richards, 
has  actually  the  hemistich  thus  :  —  on  Mary's  children  shed ;  a  reading 
which,  even  if  the  MS.  be  genuine,  may  (when  we  consider  the  Catho- 
lic predilections  of  that  distinguished  person)  be  reasonably  suspected. 

#  # 

199-201.  Far  as  from  ceiling  doivmvard  to  the  Jloor — The  cavern 
yawns,  twice  such  a  depth  and  more,  —  Gapes  the  black  pit :  —  ] 

Tum  Tartarus  ipse 
Bis  patet  in  prseceps  tantum,  tenditque  sub  umbras, 
Quantus  ad  iethereum  cceli  suspectus  Olympum. 

.En.  vi.  577-579. 

199-202.  Far  as,  etc.]  Thus  exclaim  the  hostile  commentators  :  —  The 
cave  under  the  cellar  of  depth  more  than  twice  the  extent  from  roof  to 
floor  of  the  cellar  itself?  and  so  dark  that  dayliglit  never  reaches  its 
bottom?  Bravo,  Rubeta  !  —  Now  be  it  known,  a  hero  like  Rubeta  is 
incapable  of  magnifying  such  a  matter,  much  less  of  directly  lying. 
Therefore,  the  exaggeration  (if  such  it  be)  is  to  be  regarded  as  a  figure  of 
speech.     Does  not  Virgil  speak  of  the  hundred  huge  doors  of  the 


CANTO  THIRD.  163 

Gapes  the  black  pit.     A  ladder  points  the  way, 
Whose  base  no  sunshine  marks  with  dusky  ray. 
Here  slimy  snails  and  mottled  toads  abound, 
And  a  cold  horror  shivers  o'er  the  ground. 

Midway,  when  as  I  knelt  to  pray  for  aid,  205 

The  genius  of  the  place  my  voyage  stay'd. 
I  saw  her  not,  but  heard  her  well  known  drone. 
My  son,  —  it  drawPd,  —  whom  I  delight  to  own. 
Heir  to  my  denseness,  darkness,  my  frigidity. 
My  dulness,  stiffness,  empty  insipidity,  210 

Enough  for  love  of  me  and  folly  done ; 
Go,  match'd  in  froth  and  impudence  by  none  ; 


Sibyl's  cave,  and  the  hundred  voices,  when  everybody  knows  there 
was  no  such  superfluity  of  entrances  or  echoes  ?  What  is  Virgil  to 
RuBETA,  or  the  Euboic  cavern  to  the  cellar  of  the  Hotel  Dieu  ?         *  * 

205.  Midivay,  tvhen  as  I  knelt  to  pray  for  aid,]  Scioppius  is  quite 
delighted  at  the  idea  of  having  caught  in  this  place  the  hero  in  a  down- 
right falsehood  :  for  how,  says  he,  could  the  monkey  kneel  on  a  ladder? 
Now,  not  to  say  that  a  monkey  (an  injurious  expression,  quite  unworthy 
of  so  learned  a  critic,)  might  kneel  as  well  in  one  place  as  another,  what 
was  to  hinder  the  Vault-explorer,  wlio  undoubtedly  descended  the  ladder 
with  his  face  towards  it,  from  resting  his  knees  on  one  of  the  rounds, 
while  he  continued  to  sustain  himself  in  his  position  by  his  hands  ?  But 
the  difficulty,  if  there  be  any,  is  done  away  with  entirely,  by  reading, 
with  the  first  Aldine  edition,  paused.  However,  in  what  way  soever  we 
regard  the  passage,  Ave  cannot  but  derive  from  it  a  new  argument  in 
favor  of  the  constant  unpretending  piety  and  unchanging  humility  of 
the  modern  -^neas,  who  never  even  buttons  up  his  breeches  without 
asking  assistance  of  the  gods.        *  * 

212.  — froth  and  impudence  —  ]  Servius  interprets  these  phrases, 
grandeur,  dignity  of  carriage,  and  boldness  or  daring,  as,  above,  the 
word  "  folly,"  foolish  people,  persons  incapable  of  appreciating  his  sacri- 
fices and  exertions  ;  explaining  the  distich  thus:  Enough  has  been  done 
for  love  of  me,  (i.  e.  of  opacity  &c.)  and  for  the  benefit  of  those  tvho  are 
20 


154  THE   VISION    OF   IIUBETA. 

Thou  truer  man  than  twenty  gutless  Catos, 
Ascend  !  for  here  tliere  's  notliing  but  potatoes. 

More  miglit  she  say  ;  but  faint   the  accents  come, 
Mix'd  minc'd-up  mess,  of  murmur,  sob,  and  hum  ;   216 
Such  as  from  age  or  driv'lling  palsy  creep ; 
Th'  opacous  goddess  then  fell  fast  asleep. 
I  heard  her  snore  ;  though  other  men,  my  foes, 
Will  swear  it  was  the  Cyclops  Doolan's  nose.     220 

But  once  more,  joyful,  I  salute  the  day, 
And  to  the  nuns  their  handywork  display. 
Then  all  the  saints  from  each  shrill  windpipe  bui-st. 
The  darlings  would  have  kiss'd  me  if  they  durst. 
And,  Say,  —  they   cry'd,  —  What  bless'd  those  eyes 

below  ?  225 

With  all  my  heart.     First,  suffer  me  to  blow.  — 
Know  then,  I  've  touch'd  at  Heaven,  have  sounded 

Hell, 
And  skimm'd  the  pool  where  parted  spirits  dwell. 
But  Hell  alone  deserves  your  present  ear. 
(I  travcll'd  there  entranc'd,  as  will  appear.)  230 

unworthy  of  thy  (fforts ;  Go,  unequalled  in  majesty  and  daring  valor. 
So  understand  it,  in  the  teeth  of  Hevne,  Ursi.nus,  Dousa,  La  Cerda, 
Segrais,  and  every  other  respectable  commentator  and  critic.  The  ob- 
servation indeed  of  Heyne  and  Cerdanus,  that  men  of  Rubeta's  stamp 
glory  in  the  possession  of  qualities  which  other  men  detest,  or  ridicule 
and  despise,  is  beneath  notice,  even  though  coming  from  such  au- 
thorities.       *  * 

214.  —  here  there  's  nothing  but  potatoes.]     See  "  Visit,"  &c. 

22i.  ^nd  to  the  nuns  their  handywork  display.]  Either  his  remaining 
tail,  or  the  place  of  its  departed  brother.     Vet.  Schol. 


CANTO  THIRD.  155 

First,  Satan  is  not  black,  as  poets  feign, 
But,  save  his  tail,  snow-white,  without  a  stain ; 
And  wears  green  spectacles  to  shade  his  eyes. 
Death,  under  Sin,  his  cooking-range  supplies. 
Chief  of  which  stock  Matthias  drew  my  gaze,    235 
Stretch'd  on  his  back  to  broil  amid  the  blaze. 
Him  Moloch  by,  in  apron  asbestine, 
Prick'd  duly  with  a  fork  of  double  tine. 
Pops  the  tense  skin,  with  air  exuding  grease, 
Like  the  dun  sack  of  pudding  Bolognese.  240 

The  Prophet's  beard  perfum'd  the  fiery  air 
Like  singing  wool,  yet  shrivell'd  not  a  hair  ! 
Now  when  I  heard  the  barbecue  sore-moan, 
Matthew, —  I  said,  —  what  is  it  makes  thee  groan  ? 
—  'T  is  not  the  fire,  —  he  cry'd  (and  gave  a  yell), — 
But  that  curs'd  book,  which  finds  me  here  in  Hell  246 


Ver.  237.  —  asbestine,]  The  accent  sharp  upon  the  last  syllable,  and 
the  penultima  slurred ;  a  poetical  mispronunciation.         *  * 

239,  240.  Pops  the  tense  skin,  tvith  air  exuding  grease,  —  Like  the  dun 
sack  of  pudding  Bolognese.]  We  derive  from  this  incident  a  valuable 
piece  of  information,  namely,  that  spirits  in  the  infernal  regions  are  not 
disembodied.  Rubeta's  authority,  in  matters  of  fact  and  obsgrvation, 
is  unquestionable.  See  our  note  at  v.  258,  below,  where  is  also  ex- 
plained this  anticipation  of  time  with  Matthias.         ** 

241.  The  propheVs  beard  —  ]  While  that  vulgar  knave  Matthew,  or 
Matthews,  whose  cozening  devilry  in  private  families  the  Avise  Ru- 
BETA  deemed  it  incumbent  upon  him  to  chronicle,  lest  the  benevolent 
curiosity  of  the  old  maids  of  Manhattan  should  die  ungratified,  was 
playing  the  prophet  under  the  name  of  Matthias,  he  wore  a  beard  of 
a  length  and  fulness  quite  in  character  with  his  Oriental  pretensions. 

246,  247.  But  that  curs'' d  book,  etc.]     Sc.  his  Life  by  Rubeta  ;   the 


156  THE    VISION    OF   RUBETA. 

More  pangs  than  all  the  darnn'd  bear  all  together ! 
Were  that  remov'd,  the  rest  were  but  warm  weather. 

—  Content  thee  then,  O  Matthew,  (I  replj'd,) 
Another  farce  has  thrust  that  quite  aside.  250 
But  soon  my  brain  fresh  fooleries  shall  spawn, 

T'  out-flounce  all  floundering  nonsense  earlier-born, 
All  too  that  fools  may  drop  of  later  date. 

—  Hell,    do   thy   worst !    the    Prophet  cry'd,    and 

straight, 
Swift  as  a  bullfrog  to  his  native  plashes,  255 

Turn'd  on  his  belly,  and  was  burn'd  to  ashes. 

memory  of  whicli  still  haunts,  in  the  shades,  the  victim  of  biography. 
Vet.  Schol. 

250.  Another  farce,  etc.]  Monk's  book,  it  is  plain,  from  what  Rub 
tells  the  abbess  in  Canto  ii.         *  * 

251-253.  But  soon  mij  6ram  fresh  fooleries  sJiall  spaw7i, —  T'  out- 
founce,  etc.]  Catrou  conjectures,  from  this,  that  Rubeta  had  already 
in  embryo,  or  floating  about  in  a  seminal  state  in  the  generative  organs 
of  his  brain,  the  immortal  Letter  on  Animal  Magnetism  since  emitted. 
But  this  is  chronologically  impossible.  It  may  be  the  Life  of  Brant 
which  he  was  about  to  spawn,  and  on  the  generation  of  which  he  was 
already  bestowing  his  maternal  cares ;  for  we  have  seen,  by  a  preceding 
note,  that  at  the  time  of  the  emission  of  Matthias,  the  prolific  parent 
announced  itself  as  heavy  with  another  frog.  —  Dousa,  however,  con- 
siders it  as  only  a  general  allusion  to  the  eggs  of  future  shoals,  with 
which  the  parental  brain  was  conscious  of  abounding,  and  of  whose 
vivacious  properties,  Avhen  once  ejected  in  the  public  stream,  there  was 
every  reason  to  form  high  expectations,  from  the  miraculous  floundering 
of  preceding  fries  of  the  same  family.  We  are  inclined  to  think  with 
the  learned  Dutchman.        ** 

Might  not  the  hero  allude  to  his  "  Visit,"  which  no  doubt  he  was  then  conceivings, 
even  if  he  had  not  already  brooded  on  it  long  before  he  set  out  for  Montreal  ?  Cor- 
rector. 

256.  —  and  was  hurnhi  to  ashes.]  Those  who  give  an  allegorical  in- 
terpretation to  the  scene  in  Hell,  (basing  their  oi)inion  on  the  fact  that 
Matthias  was  at  this  time  still  living,  and,  having  shaved  off"  his  beard. 


CANTO  THIRD.  157 


Therewith  Hell-fire,  and  Sin,  and  Moloch  cook. 
All  vanish'd,  as  to  one  from  slumber  shook. — 


wherein  lay  the  spirit  of  prophecy,  was  pursuing  his  primitive  occupa- 
tion of  a  carpenter,)  say  that  this  end  denotes  the  foregone  conclusion 
of  Matthias's  preaching,  to  wit,  his  return  to  his  original  insignifi- 
cance ;  into  wliich  the  prophet  plunged,  the  instant  his  Memoir  by  Ru- 
BETA  was  superseded, 

"  Swift  as  a  bullfrog  to  his  native  plashes."        *  * 

258.  All  vanished,  as  to  one  from  slumber  shook.]  Says  Scioppius,  in 
the  same  spirit  with  his  observations  on  v.  205,  Rubeta  tells  one  lie 
to  his  mates  and  another  to  his  playmates.  The  irreverent  critic  did 
not  consider,  that  the  first  is  but  an  allegorical  mode  of  speaking  usual 
with  men  of  Rubeta's  exalted  poetical  genius ;  and  as  for  the  latter, 
who,  that  is  so  happy  as  to  have  read  the  Letter  to  Dr.  JSmcnjii,  but  will 
believe  that  tlie  hero,  who  tells  us  (v.  230)  that  he  was  carried  into  Hell 
entranced,  might  witness  without  difficulty  the  scene  he  has  described  ? 
a  scene  which,  I  have  no  doubt  myself,  were  Matthias  actually  dead, 
would  be  perfectly  realized.  We  have  only  to  regret,  that  the  descent 
to  Hell  should  have  preceded  in  point  of  time  the  immortal  visit  to 
Providence,  as  otherwise  we  could  bring  indubitable  evidence  of  its 
typical  reality ;  since,  by  only  being  magnetized,  Rubeta,  according  to 
his  own  account,  (See  his  Lett,  on  An.  Magn.)  might  as  easily  see  Hell 
and  its  dependencies,  as  look  out  of  his  window  on  Columbia's  freshmen. 
Why  he  has  not  yet  done  it  in  public,  and  thus  gratified  a  universal  and 
undying  curiosity,  we  know  not,  but  Ave  may  naturally  expect  that  the 
infernal  voyage  will  soon  be  made  ;  in  anticipation  of  which  event  we 
beg  leave  to  offer  our  congratulations  to  the  six-and-twenty  States  of 
the  Union,  and  to  every  portion  of  the  habitable  globe  to  which  the 
sweet  savour  of  Rubeta's  wisdom  may  have  diffused  itself  It  will  be 
Buch  a  satisfaction  for  a  man  to  know  what  has  become  of  the  soul  of 
his  grandfather  !         *  * 

The  Editor  forgets  that  these  magnetic  voyages  are  made  through  tlie  air,  a  way  of 
travelling  to  which  Rubeta  repeatedly  assures  us  he  is  well  accustomed,  (see  Letter 
&c.,)  but  how  he  could  reach  the  gates  of  Pandemonium  by  this  transparent  railway 
is  not  easily  seen  ;  though,  doubtless,  the  hero  is  as  perfect  in  profound  sinking,  as  at 
sailing  in  the  clouds.  We  hope,  however,  with  the  philosophic  Editor,  that  the  ex- 
periment will  soon  be  made,  if  only  for  the  satisfaction  of  Professors  Brigham  and 
Watland,  and  of  other  gentlemen  of  science  and  magnetic  aflinities  ;  or  at  least 
that  Rubeta  will  give  us  a  peep  into  the  Limbo  of  Vanity,  which  he  might  do,  we 
should  think,  any  day,  without  going  to  Providence,  or  playing  turrauches  with  Miss 
Loraina.     Corr. 


158  THE   VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

'T  is  a  strange  tale,  and  women  well  may  stare : 
I  would  avouch  it ;  but  I  never  swear.  240 

Whate'er  you  think,  or  that  I  lie  or  dream, 
Don't  take  me  for  the  simpleton  I  seem  : 
Credulity  by  no  means  kills  the  sense  ; 
It  only  shuts  it  unto  mere  pretence  : 
Thus,  at  my  beck,  Suspicion's  jaundice  flees,         245 
And  any  man  's  a  scoundrel  when  I  please. 

Ver.  239.  'jT  is  a  strange  tale,  and  women  loell  may  stare:']  Isaac 
Vossius  thinks  they  might  stare  from  another  cause;  (see  verse  263;) 
ScALiGER  says  from  botli ;  adding,  the  effect  of  either  were  enough,  of 
both  must  have  been  irresistible.         *  * 

240.  /  tvould  avouch  it ;  but  I  never  swear.]  As  we  have  remarked 
before,  the  pious  scrupulosity  of  Rubeta  is  only  matched  by  that  of  Dry- 
den's  Fox.*    See  the  concluding  observation  of  our  note  at  v.  205.       *  * 

241,  242.  Whate'er  you  think,  or  that  I  lie  or  dream,  —  DonH  take  me 
for  the  simpleton  I  seem  .-]  This  is  not  said,  as  some  suppose,  in  anger  ; 
the  hero  is  above  so  earthly  an  emotion.  He  probably  fancied,  that  he 
saw, an  expression  of  doubt  upon  the  quizzical  visage  of  Fretille,  or 
of  some  one  of  the  novices,  and  the  pride  of  a  high  character,  conscious 
of  its  own  superiority,  was  for  a  moment  hurt,  as  on  a  preceding  occa- 
sion (v.  122) :  therefore,  he  proceeds  to  tell  them,  that  his  eyesight  is  as 
good  as  theirs  (v.  243) ;  that,  supposing  him  to  be  credulous,  it  is  only 
to  barefaced  pretension,  which  may  deceive  the  wisest,  (v.  244) ;  but  that 
he  is  sharp  enough  where  nobody  else  Avould  suspect  any  thing ;  and 
therewith  he  proceeds  to  give  them  an  illustration,  v.  245,  246.         *  * 

245.  Thus,  at  my  beck,  Suspicion's  jaundice  flees,]  "  Visit  to  Montreal," 
«  Lett  on  Magn.,"  &.c. 

246.  And  any  man  's  a  scoundrel  lohen  I  please.]  See  for  07ie  example, 
in  the  N.  Y.  Comm.  Adv.,f  those  abominable  remarks,  so  gratuitously 
introduced,^  about  "a  recent  catastrophe  said  to  have  been  brought  to 
light  in  the  domestic  affairs"  of  a  certain  popular  author,  (whose  name 

*  See  ihe  passage  quoted  at  v.  112.     Con: 

t  N.  Y.  Comm.  Adv.]  I  have  not  the  date  of  the  paper.  The  remarks  of  the  Ed. 
Comm.  follow  a  "  Communication  "  signed  "  An  American,"  and  commencing  thus  : 
"  For  ihe  Commercial  Advertiser.  The  disparaging  style  in  which  Mr.  Brooks,  in  one 
of  his  late  letters,  has  spoken  of  Mr."' 

X  — gratuitously  introduced.]     The  subject  which  ushered  in  these  remarks,  had 


CANTO  THIRD.  159 

Oh  !  had  the  bard,  who  sung  of  Heav'n  and  Hell, 
Foreseen  the  lies  and  scandal  I  should  sell, 

the  editor  of  that  journal  lias  the  audacity  to  mention  in  full,)  —  "namely, 
his  elopement  witli  another  man's  wife,  &c.  &c."  The  gallant  Colonel, 
[An  honest  man  he  is,  and  hates  the  slime 
That  sticks  on  jilthy  deeds,)  * 
concludes  thus  :  "  The  intelligence  was  contained  in  a  letter  recently 
received  from  England,  and  vtai/  not  be  true."  May  not  be  true  !  Good 
God !  how  can  any  man,  that  affects  the  name  of  Christian,  venture  thus 
to  befoul  his  neighbour's  character  on  mere  hearsay  !  We  forgot ;  the 
Colonel  is  an  old  woman.  "  But,"  he  proceeds  to  say,  "  there  is  noth- 
ing in  the  character  of  the  man  to  make  it  doubtful."  f  Whether  the 
report  be  true  or  not,  I  should  like  to  know  what  business  it  is  of  the  Edi- 
tor of  the  Commercial's?  Had  I  tiie  dressing  of  this  slanderer,  I  would 
clap  a  petticoat  upon  him,  tliat  his  gender,  at  least  in  appearance,  might 
no  longer  be  equivocal. 

One  or  two  other  instances  will  be  shown  in  the  course  of  the  poem, 
where  this  miserable,  wicked  fool,  has  spit  his  venom  quite  as  wantonly, 
and,  the  crime  alleged  being  lust,  with  particular  satisfaction.  At 
present,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  add  his  attack  upon  a  well-known  diplomatic 
character,  ichile  the  latter  was  abroad  upon  his  mission ;  (a  man's  back 
is  sometimes  saved  by  distance.)  The  particulars  are  as  follows:  — 
A  disgraceful  letter  having  been  ascribed  to  Mr. ,  the  Ameri- 
can ambassador  at  the  court  of ,  the  Editor  of  the  N.  Y.  Comm. 

nothing  to  do  with  them ;  but  this  pious  slanderer,  who  deems  it  as  good  an  act  to 
blast  a  character,  as  to  propagate  foolery  and  play  pushpin  with  a  hussy,  has  his  envi- 
ous head  teeming  with  his  plot  of  defamation,  and  therefore  hastens  the  delivery  on 
the  first  occasion,  preparing  us  for  it,  in  the  true  spirit  of  malice,  by  telling  us  he  is 
glad  to  be  instrumental  in  making  known  any  circumstance  creditable  to  one  whose 

genius  he  so  much  applauds  as  he  does  that  of  Mr. /     (Doubtless,  the  latter 

part  of  the  "  Remark,"  (given  above,)  viakes  knoivn  a  circumstance  verij  creditable  to 
&c.)  The  whole  article  so  perfectly  developes  the  true  nature  of  this  person's  disposi- 
tion, that  we  should  copy  it  entire,  could  we  soil  our  paper  with  what,  setting  aside  its 
dastardly  littleness,  we  deem  as  unchristian  villainy  as  any  in  the  pages  of  Carlisle, 
of  fire-and-hangman  notoriety. 

*  Othello  of  lago.  A.  v.  Sc.  2.  —  There  are  j)leniy  of  lagos  in  the  world  ;  men, 
however,  of  so  noble  nature,  that  they  do  not  do  the  thing  for  hate,  nor  yet  for  money, 
but,  of  a  charitable  mercy  and  religious  zeal,  wake  suspicion  in  confiding  bosoms,  and 
trip  the  foot  of  happiness,  for  they  know  that  to  be  comfortable  in  this  world  is  to  be 
miserable  in  the  next ,  and  What  profit  is  it  to  a  man  if  he  gain  the  whole  tvorld  and 
lose  his  soul  ?         *  * 

t  lago  to  the  life. 

"I   KNOW    NOT   IF    'T    BE    TRUE} 

But  I,  for  mere  suspicion  in  that  kind, 

\W\\\  do,  as  if  for  surely."  A.  i.  Sc.  3.  ad  fnem.        *  * 


lOU  THE  VISION  or  rubeta. 

The  Devil  in  vain  had  squat  at  car  of  Eve, 
He  'd  found  a  hero  greater  far,  believe ;  250 

Where  now  some  graver  lyre,  to  my  vexation, 
Shall  sound  mj  honors  to  the  Yankee  nation. 

Adv.  seized  upon  it  directly,  and  propagfated  the  slander,  after,  it  Avould 
seem,  it  had  been  refuted  by  the  venj  paper  in  which  it  first  appeared ! 
For  thus  Avrites  the  minister,  in  a  letter  published  under  his  signature, 
and  the  date  of  Dec.  31,  1836,  in  the  N.  Y.  American  ; 

"  I  have  read,  I  confess,  with  surprise  and  indignation,  ilie  article  containing  the 
attack  on  me  by  tlie  Editor  of  the  Commercial ;  aggravated,  if  possible,  by  the  fact, 
that  it  is  a  repetition  of  a /o/7rter  one,  of  Zi7i:e  character.  I  need  hardly  say  that  the 
whole  affair,  from  beginning  to  end,  is  a  sheer  fabrication,  and  wholly  destitute  of 
truth."  *****  "Imagine  my  surprise  at  so  wanton  and  barefaced  a 
c.<i.'LVViny,andlhattoo,(as  appears  from  the  article  itself ,)  after  a  denial  by 
the  Editors  of  the  Globe  that  the  letter  was  written  by  myself."  *  *  *. 
"  You  are  authorized  then,  my  dear  Sir,  in  pronouncing  on  my  authority,  here  or 
elsewhere,  the  whole  charge  false  and  calumnious,  without  the  slightest 
justification  for  it,  either  in  misconstruction  or  misinformation."  ****»**. 
"  Upon  what  authority,  and  with  what  motives  he  has  made  his  charge,  I 
leave  the  public  to  judge.  Of  one  thing,  I  am  quite  certain,  that  if  such  conduct  is 
not  reprobated  by  the  liberal  and  enlightened  men  of  all  parties,  it  can  have  no  other 
effect  than  to  humble  our  countnj  at  home  and  disparage  it  abroad." 

I  am  in  possession  of  another  instance,  which  partakes  still  more  that 
character,  of  wilful  malice  and  direct  falsehood,  which  gives  a  venom 
to  the  otherwise  impotent  journal  of  this  silly,  but  by  no  means  inof- 
fensive creature,  and  which  /  loill  add  to  the  list,  when  the  titne  comes 
that  I  can  vouch  it  by  my  name. 

In  conclusion,  let  me  add,  what  is  less  clearly  expressed  in  tlie  text, 
this  MORAL  TRUTH  :  that  credulity  and  suspicion  go  hand  in  hand,  and 
the  man  tvho  is  ready  to  yield  belief  to  extravagance,  mysticism,  and  folly, 
tvill  ever  be  found  among  the  first  to  vilify  his  neighbour,  and  to  hunt  out 
the  occasion  of  aspersion  ivhere  it  does  not  fall  in  his  ivay.  The  reason- 
ing of  the  proposition  is  evident,  —  tlierefore  unnecessary;  the  proofs  — 
you  have  in  the  Letter  on  An.  Magnetism,  and  in  the  daily  sheet  of  the 
N.  Y.  Commercial  Advertiser. 

We  are  astonished  at  the  Author's  speaking  so  seriously  of  such  a  matter.  Good 
Heaven!  and  is  there  then  no  difference  between  Rubeta — RUBETA!  —  and 
any  other  man  ? 

Is  't  not  ridiculous  and  nonsense, 
A  saint  should  be  a  slave  to  conscience  j 
That  ought  to  be  above  such  fancies, 
As  far  as  above  ordinances  ? 

Iludibras,  Pt.  ii.  Canto  ii.  247. 


CANTO  THIRD.  161 

But,  since  I  left,  how  llowii  the  soft-wing'd  Hours  ? 

Two  minutes  distant.  —  Minutes  ?  By  the  Powr's 

Whose  cause  I  serve,  two  months  methought  were 

fled,  255 

Since  these  bold  eyes  outstar'd  the  astonish'd  dead  !  — 

Ver.  254,  253.  —  By  the  Poivr''s —  Whose  cause  J  serve —  ]  Dulness, 
Obscurity,  &c.  &c.     Servius. 

Hypocrisy,  Falsehood,  and  other  like  divinities,  undoubtedly.     Scali- 

GER. 

Above,  RuBETA  says  he  never  swears.  The  M-ords  are  scarcely  cold 
before  he  contradicts  himself!  —  He  proves  however  one  thing-  by  it : 
that  he  is  a  famous  hand  at  invention.     Anon. 

A  man  of  cool  temperament,  whose  passions  are  under  habitual  self- 
control,  may  be  yet  so  taken  by  surprise  as  to  forget  for  a  moment  the 
reasonableness  he  has  daily  taught  himself  for  years.  Such  a  man 
cannot  be  called  inconsistent,  much  less  false,  or  hypocriticaL  He  is 
the  same  individual,  but  under  unusual  excitement :  a  summer's  sky,  or 
a  tolerably  clean  pavement,  under  a  passing  gust.  A  remarkable 
instance  is  presented  in  the  divine  Letter  we  have  so  often  mentioned, 
Avhere,  carried  away  by  the  magnetic  fervor,  the  hero  declares,  as  we 
have  shown  in  another  place,  (v.  170,)  that  if  the  proofs  of  Loraina's 
omniscience  and  mental  ubiquity  be  rejected,  we  must  reject  the  miracles 
of  revelation :  a  blasphemy  which  could  only  be  tolerated  in  a  man  of 
Rubeta's  acknowledged  piety.* 

255,  256.  —  two  moiiths  mf'thougkt  were  Jled,  —  Since  these  hold  eyes  out- 
stared  the  astonished  dead !  —  ]     This  is  a  touch  above  Don  Quixote. 

*  We  subjoin  the  entire  passage,  as  it  is  to  be  found  on  p.  59  of  the  1st  ed.  of  the 
Lett,  on  An.  Magn. 

"Again,  there  are  those  who  fear  to  believe,  lest  an  argument  shall  [should]  be 
derived  from  the  admitted  existence  of  the  magnetic  influence,  against  the  miracles 
sustaining  the  divine  origin  of  the  Christian  religion;  whereas,  in  my  apprehension, 
the  very  reverse  is  the  fact ;  since,  if  testimony  like  that  to  wkich  I  have  referred, 
is  to  be  rejected,  where  are  we  to  look  for  the  proof  of  those  very  miracles  ?  " 

This,  and  the  passage  where  he  compares  himself  to  St.  Sebastian,  (see  note  to 
V.  G28,  G2!),)  are,  we  repeat,  by  no  means  to  be  regarded  as  blasplicmous,  but  of  the 
enthusiastic  nature  of  Laukentius  V^all.\'s  declaration,  that  he  had  arrows  in  his 
quiver  against  CuBiST  himself !  Great  men,  and  men  of  known  piety,  "evangelical 
Christians  "  I  would  say,  are,  it  cannot  be  too  often  iterated,  never  to  be  weighed 
on  the  same  coarse  steelyard  where  you  and  I,  and  such  other  dog's-meat,  are 
suspended.        *  * 

21 


162  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Ladies  !  the  charm  has  work'd  ;   the  trial  's  o'er ! 
Virgins  ye  are,  as  pure  as  ever  bore. 

I  said,  and  cut  a  caper,  two  yards  high, 
But  for  the  vault,  had  bor'd  my  native  sky.  sgo 

"  A  esta  sazon  dijo  el  primo :  Yo  no  se,  seilor  Don  Quijote,  como  vuesa 
merced  en  tan  poco  espacio  de  tiempo  como  ha  que  esta  alia  bajo, 
haya  visto  tantas  cosas  y  hablado  y  respondido  tanto.  ^  Cuanto  lia  que 
baje  ?  pregunto  Don  Quijote.  Poco  mas  de  una  hora,  respondio 
Sancho.  Eso  no  puede  ser,  replico  Don  Quijote,  porque  alia  me  ano- 
checio  y  amanecio,  y  torno  a  anochecer  y  a  amanecer  tres  veces,  de 
modo  que  a  mi  cuenta  tres  dias  he  estado  en  aquellas  partes  remotas  y 
escondidas  a  la  vista  nuestra.  Verdad  debe  de  decir  mi  serior,  dijo 
Sancho,  que  como  todas  las  cosas  que  le  han  sucedido  son  por  encanta- 
mento,  quiza  lo  que  a  nosotros  nos  parece  una  hora  debe  de  parecer 
alia   tres    dias    con   sus   noches.     Asi   sera,  respondio    Don   Quijote. 

Don  Q.  Tomo  iii.  cap.  23.  De  las  admirahles  cosas  que  el  extre- 
mado  Don  Q.  conto  que  habia  visto  en  la  profunda  cueva  de  Montesi- 
nos,  elc.^^        *  * 

256.  —  the  astonished  dead!  —  ]  A  virulent  old  critic,  whom  we  have 
previously  cited,  exclaims  very  profanely:  How  the  devil  could  the 
dead  see  him?  If  his  own  eyes  had  not  been  closed  by  prejudice,  the 
irreverent  German  would  have  seen,  that  the  hero  is  speaking  of  the 
departed  spirits  with  whom  he  had  been  conversing,  and  calls  them  dead 
in  reference  to  the  world.         *  * 

237.  — the  charm  has  work''d — ]  This  expression  goes  to  confirm 
our  explanation  of  the  phrase  "  mystic  cane,"  in  Canto  ii.  (v.  215.)  By 
supposing  the  hero  to  have  made  his  journey  to  the  shades  astride  this 
rod,  (a  supposition  which  does  not  conflict  at  all  with  his  own  declara- 
tion, that  he  travelled  there  entranced,)  or  to  have  used  it  as  his  proto- 
type yE.NEAS  the  golden  bough  on  a  similar  occasion,  Ave  facilitate  our 
credit  in  tliis  wonderful  narration,  which,  if  there  be  any  faith  in  animal 
magnetism,  (see  our  note  to  v.  258,)  we  believe  to  be  strictly  true.       *  * 

259,  260.  —  aJid  cut  a  caper,  itvo  yards  high,  —  But  for  the  vaidt,  had 
bor^d  my  native  sky.]  Sublime  exaggeration  !  Miglit  we  not  say,  with 
LoNGi.NUS,*  that  another  such  leap  would  have  brought  him  on  the  back- 
side of  the  world  ?         *  * 

*  Speaking  of  the  leap  which  Homer  assigns  to  Juno's  steeds,  (R.  v.  770-772,) 
the  master  of  the  sublime,  in  a  fine  burst  of  admiration,  inquires  :  Who  is  there 
therefore  that  would  not  justlij  exclaim,  impressed  with  the  surpassing  greatness  of 
this  conception,  tliat,  if  the  immortal  steeds  should  make  a  second  like  effort,  the  world 


CANTO  THIRD  103 

Then  first  1  felt  my  loins  grow  rough  with  cold  ; 
When  sliding  back  my  hand,  in  fright,  behold 
Once  more  my  braces  ruptiir'd  !  or  by  strain, 
Down  the  steep  ladd'r,  and  heaving  up  again, 
(Unnotic'd  in  my  joy  to  resalute  the  train,)  265 

Or  of  that  high  croupade.     This  fir'd  to  view, 
Fretille  with  sacred  ardor  downward  drew. 
O'er  my  broad  shoulders,  half  the  woven  thread, 
And,  hanging  it  about  her  neck,  thus  said  :  — 

Come,  sacred  web  !  dear  relic,  though  unstable  !  27o 
Thou,  that  once  brac'd  a  saint's  unmentionable  ! 
Clasp  this  fond  neck :  not  faithless  without  cause  ; 
For  Morn  shall  see  thee  patch  Fretille' s  old  draw'rs. 

Ver.  259.  —  and  cut  a  caper  —  ]  Perrault  finds  this  transport  of 
Rubeta's  unworthy.  A  man  less  philosophical  might  indeed  blush  to  ex- 
press with  such  alacrity  his  joy  at  the  nuns'  virginity.  But  Aristippus 
was  not  ashamed  to  shake  a  leg  in  a  purple  dress,  saying,  that  not  even 
in  the  orgies  of  Bacchus  did  the  modest  soul  part  with  her  integrity. 
Vide  DioG.  Laert.  in  vita  Aristippi:  ed.  Genev.  1G15.  p.  140.         *  * 

260.  —  my  native  sky.]  We  here  find  the  sky  considered  even  by 
himself  the  proper  region  of  this  ethereal  being.  This  passage,  and 
the  similar  assertions  in  his  famous  Letter,*  corroborate  each  other. 
Hence,  many  will  have  it,  that  the  hero  was  magnetized  previously  to 
his  expedition  to  the  East.  We  may  see  nothing  to  contradict  this 
opinion  •  on  the  contrary,  we  believe  the  versatile  Rubeta  to  have  been 
in  a  sort  of  somnolency  ever  since  his  birth,  and  in  a  state  of  somnam- 
bulism, somniloquism,  somnoscribism,  and  somnocogilism,  ever  since  he 
dropped  the  petticoat.  Happy  being  !  whose  fancies  mount  at  will  the 
coursers  of  the  cherubim,  and  whose  legs  throw  back  the  surges  of  the 
clouds !         *  * 

272.  —  not  faithless  without  cause  ;]     That  is,  not  without  the  will  of 

would  want  space  for  it  ?      (Ti'j  ovv  ovk  av  chdroi;  iid    tiiv   'vTzepfio\fiv  rov  fxtyidovi 
enKpdiy^aiTO,  on,   uv  6ii  i^tjs  i(l>opni'iaw(Tiv  o'l  rZv  dcdv  Jn'rroi,  oliKid'  clpi'jcovatv  ev  Kda^uf 
tCttov  ;)  De  Sub.  Sec.  ix.        ** 
*  See  a  passage  quoted  in  the  note  to  v.  273. 


164  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

And  now,  unloos'd,  dread  things  had  been  displayed, 
Wherefrom  e'en  Doolan's  self  had  turn'd  dismaj'd, 

Heaven,  as and  the  reason  follows.  But  some  interpret  it  as  con- 
veying a  sly  insinuation,  tliat  Fretille  had  stitched  them  badly  together 
on  the  first  disrupture,  for  the  very  purpose  of  appropriating  them  as  in 
the  text:  and  thereupon  they  conjecture  that  Fretille's  caution  on  that 
occasion  {consult  Canto  ii.  59(j),  arose  from  the  consciousness  of  the 
artifice  she  was  using.  The  interpretation  is  very  plausible  as  far  as 
the  present  subject  is  concerned  ;  but  the  conjecture  is  entirely  gratui- 
tous.       *  * 

273.  For  Morn  shall  see  thee  patch  Fretille's  old  drawWs.']  Few  pic- 
tures can  be  more  touching  than  that  of  this  great  man,  surrounded 
by  the  gentle  sisterhood,  submitting  so  readily  to  all  their  little  whims 
and  wishes : 

How  meek,  how  patient,  the  mild  creature  lies  ! 
What  softness  in  its  melancholy  face. 
What  dumb  complaining  innocence  appears ! 

(Thomson's  Summer,  413.) 
Not  Gulliver,  encompassed  by  the  Lilliputians,  was  half  so  fine  an 
image  of  submissive  power,  nor  yet  Rubeta's  own  great  self,  when 
playing  patty-cake  with  Miss  Loraina,  or  when,  hand  in  hand  with  that 
"  dignified  young  lady,"  and  toe  to  toe,  he  moved  up  and  down  with 
her,  gracefully  subsilient,  or  fluctuating,  so  to  speak,  to  imitate  the  lovely 
motion  of  two  amorous  doves  when  flying,  as  his  own  soft  pen  has  so 
touchingly  and  voluptuously  described  in  tiiat  transcendent  emanation, 
whose  title  we  cannot  too  frequently  repeat,  the  Letter  to  Dr.  Brighatn 
on  Animal  Magnetism.  But  we  must  quote  the  precious  passage  for 
the  delectation,  admiration,  and  information,  of  all  lovers  of  the  sublime 
and  beautiful :  — 

She  "  repeated  her  desire  to  go  through  the  air.  I  assured  her  that  I  would  as 
gladly  accompany  her  that  way  as  any  other.  '  But  you  must  not  let  mc  fall,'  said 
she.  '  O  no/  1  replied.  '  I  am  used  to  (hat  way  of  travelling ,*  and  will  bear  you  up 
in  perfect  safety.'  Saying  which,  she  grasped  my  right  hand  more  firmly,  —  took  my 
left  hand,  —  and  pressed  upon  both,  tremulously,  as  if  buoying  herself  up.  I  raised  my 
hands  some  ten  or  twelve  inches,  very  slowly,  favoring  the  idea  that  she  was  ascend- 
ing.' [What  y)/n.']  '  You  must  keep  me  up,'  she  said,  with  a  slight  convulsive,  or 
rather  shuddering  grasp,  as  though  apprehensive  of  a  fall.     '  Certainly/  I  replied, 

*  Like  the  Socrates  of  comedy. 

SOCR.     'AifsSxri 

Aristoph.  Ifub.  224,  225.     Brunck. 


CANTO  THIRD.  165 

Had  not  the  lov'd  of  Philomeda's  grace  276 

Rush'd  to  my  side,  with  supplicating  face. 

O  let,  O  let  me  pin  it  up  !  —  she  cry'd  ; 

With  trembling  joy  one  yellow  hand  apply'd, 

My  under-weed  and  woollen  band  betwixt,  aso 

Grasp'd  tight  the  twain,  and  soon  the  bastion  fixt. 


'  you  need  have  no  fear.    /  am  used  to  these  excursions.'     And  away,  in  imagina- 
tion, we  sailed."     (p.  20.) 

Let  US  draw  a  veil  over  the  too  enchanting  picture  of  the  toying 
turtles.         *  * 

274.  —  unloosed,  dread  things  had  been  displayed,]  We  are  astonished 
that  so  respectable  an  annotator  as  Ru^us  should  explain  this,  with 
the  ancient  Scholiast,  in  a  manner  little  agreeable  to  the  modesty  of  such 
a  speaker  as  our  hero,  and  quote,  as  an  analogous  passage,  a  verse  (519) 
from  Canto  i.,  equally  misunderstood : 

"  And  as  to  save  you  serves  my  own  great  end."        *  * 

It  is  probable,  that  the  hero  refers  to  the  tail  of  his  shirt,  his  "  under-weed,"  as 
he  calls  it  below,  and  to  his  account  with  the  washerwoman.  See  Canto  ii.  635.  Corr. 

274-276.  Jlnd  noiv,  unloos'd,  dread  thins;.?,  etc.]  A  mode  of  speaking 
common  with  the  ancient  epic  poets,  and  here  paraphrased  from  Mii- 
ton's  imitation : 

and  now  great  deeds 

Had  been  achiev'd,  whereof  all  Hell  had  rung, 
Had  not  the  snaky  sorceress  that  sat 
Fast  by  Hell  gate,  and  kept  the  fatal  key, 
Ris'n,  and  with  hideous  outcry  rush'd  between. 

Par.  Lost,  ii.  722-726. 

276.  —  the  lov^d  of  Puilomeda's  grace]  Read:  of  Philomeida^s  grace  ; 
and  understand  by  the  circumlocution,  Pdtain  ;  whom  he  has  previous- 
ly called  a  votary  of  the  same  goddess.  (Canto  ii.  543-549.)  Philomei- 
da,  or  Philomeid^,  an  epithet  of  Venus  with  Homer  :  (piXofi/^u^hs  'A(p^e- 
S/tj),  laughttr-lovin^  Venus ;  the  /«  reduplicative,  mtlri  gratia.  Philo- 
meda  is  another  name  of  the  same  divinity,  given  to  her,  according  to 
Hesiod,  {Theog.  200,)  from  the  accident  of  her  birth,  'dn  firihiuv  lltipady^m 
though  one  would  think  that  a  simpler  reason  might  have  been  assigned 
for  so  charming  a  title.        *  * 


16G  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Soft !  soft !  —  I  scream'd,  —  Take  time  ;  don't  work 

so  hard  : 
That  broad  cloth  cost  me  thirty  dimes  per  yard  ! 

This  post  secur'd,  the  well-intention'd  nun 
My  sliver'd  sleeve  would  teach  reknit  in  one.  285 

Not  so,  (I  urg'd,)  dear  saint,  whose  cheek  discloses 
More  charms  than  daffodils,  or  spring's  white  roses, 
(Pure,  fadeless  tint  Rubeta  loveth  most. 
Next  the  deep  grain  Sietta's  houries  boast,) 
Not  so  ;  no  foul  dishonor  at  that  end 
Spots  my  chemise,  or  needs  abash  my  friend. 


Ver.  0S2.  Soft!  soft! — 1  scream'd, —  Take  time — ]  Nannius  will 
have  it  that  tliis  was  said  with  a  Avish  to  keep  the  soft  liand  longer 
nigh  him,  probably  to  warm  the  shivering  part.  This  is  not  so :  for 
though  the  hero  is  fond  of  women's  hands,  as  the  Abbess  said,  [Canto  i. 
463,)  and  did  make  a  journey  to  Providence  for  the  very  purpose  of 
gratifying  this  delicate  sense,  yet,  be  it  observed,  it  is  only  in  the  cause 
of  science.     He  explains,  himself,  the  reason  of  the  entreaty.         *  * 

282,  283.  Soft!  soft!  —  I scrtttDi'd,  etc.  That  broadcloth  cost  me  thirty 
dimes  per  yard !] 

Fate  pian,  grida  Bosio:  ajuto,  ajuto: 
Non  stracciate,  che  '1  saio  e  di  velluto.  — 

Tassom.  Seech.  Rap.  Canto  7",  25. 

288,  289.  Pure,  fadeless  tint  Rubeta  loveth  7nost.^J\''ext  the  deep  strain 
Sietta's  houries  boast,]  "Ne  savez-vous  pas,"  as  said  the  Dauphin  to 
the  Countess  Du  Rourre,  "  ne  savez-vous  pas,  madame,  que  les  goiits 
sont  difFerens?  L'un  aime  la  brune,  et  I'autre  la  blonde;  et  par  ce 
moyen  chacune  trouve  a  se  loger."  Bussi:  Hist.  Jim.  des  Gaules : 
Tome  3me.  (p.  419.  ed.  1829.)  Thus  translated  by  the  connoisseur  Ru- 
beta :  —  "a  colored  woman,  if  well  washed,  would  be  just  as  clean  as 
a  washed  white  woman."  —  [Jln.  Magn.  1st  ed.  p.  32.)         *  * 

289,  —  SiETTA  —  ]  One  of  the  provinces  of  Angola,  in  possession 
of  the  Portuguese  ;  here  put  of  course  for  the  whole  kingdom.         *  * 

290,  291.  —  710  foul  dishonor  at  that  end — Spots  my  chemise  —  ]    The 


CANTO  THIRD.  167 

There  let  the  white  sliift  flutter,  broad  and  free, 
Banner  at  once,  and  pomp,  of  victory  ! 

I  spake.     Well  pleas'd,  the  maidens  smile  assent, 
For  the  thought  tallies  with  their  own  intent ;        295 
Which  BoiTEUSE  thus  reveal'd  :  —  Come,  sisters  all ; 
Bear  the  lov'd  hero  back  into  the  hall ; 
In  triumph  bear,  and  (Haste  !  the  vault  grows  misty,) 
Sing  Jubilate,  and  Ancilla  Christi. 

Do  as  ye  list !  —  I  cry'd,  exulting,  —  Do  !  300 

Ancilla  prope  swn  magisquam  you. 

Scholiast  takes  this  in  a  sense  at  once  figurative  and  literal,  hinging  its 
explanation  upon  a  preceding  passage  : 

thy  shirt-tail  seen, 

Scanty  indeed,  and  not  exceeding  clean: 

(The  nuns  to  Rub.  Canto  ii.  G31 :) 
that  is,  hinging  mistake  upon  mistake.     The  phrase  is  entirely  meta- 
phorical, and  the  sense,  that  that  end  of  his  shirt  is  not,  by  custom, 
held  indecent.         *  * 

The  Editor's  opinion  would  go  to  contradict  the  opinion  we  have  ventured  to 
advance  at  v.  STi:  but  we  are  inclined  to  think,  with  the  Scholiast,  that  the  expres- 
sion is  "  at  once  figurative  and  literal."     Corr. 

292.  —  shift  —  ]  "  Shift,"  says  Servius,  either  because  the  hero 
was  actually  in  use  of  his  wife's  linen,  or  as  denoting  either  the  body 
or  mind  of  the  wearer,  as  one  whom  female  dress  became,  notha  mulier ; 
the  Poet,  undoubtedly,  considering  him  what  is  vulgarly  called  an  old 
woman.     Explanation  wortliy  of  so  mere  a  grammarian.         *  * 

i99.  — '■^Ancilla  Christi.'"]  The  first  words  of  what  is  sung  at  the 
taking  of  the  veil:  I  am  the  handmaid  of  Cbbist,  etc.  The  meaning 
therefore  is  :  Our  innocence  is  proved  (see  v.  258) ;  let  us  then  sing, 
as  we  did  when  we  took  the  vow  to  keep  it.         *  * 

301.  ^^ Ancilla  propk  sum  magisquam''''  —  ]  Scioppius,  Salmasius, 
Bayle,  chuckles  famously  at  this  queer  Latin  ;  even  the  grave  IIey.-ve,  and 
the  excellent  Bouhours,  have  each  his  laugh  ;  and  the  Scholiast,  wliile  he 
calls  it  the  Latin  of  Babelmandel,  and  says  it  corroborates  the  interpre- 
tation of  Servius  above  (v.  292),  has  no  doubt  of  its  genuineness,  and 


168  THE   VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

Loud  laugh'd,  delighted  with  mj  parts,  the  fair, 
And  the  glad  triumph  thus,  with  pomp,  prepare  :  — 

Four  lovely  nymphs,  the  tallest  of  the  band. 
Poize,  level  with  the  hip,  my  sire's  dread  wand,    305 
More  potent  than  the  rod  shrewd  Israel  set 
Before  dull  Laban's  ewes,  or,  mightier  yet. 
Which  gave  th'  Idiean  bastard  Hell  to  spy. 
On  th'  outside  only,  not  explore  as  I. 
Four  nymphs.    At  either  end  were  stationed  two  :  3io 
CuLAssE,  Tetasses,  Bouffie,  and  Charnue. 
O'er  this,  (familiar  saddle,  —  scanty-wide,) 
Seven  nuns  slow-heaving  set  my  bulk  astride. 
Behind,  Pucelle,  soft  pillow,  keeps  me  tight ; 
And  Phlebotemna  props  me  on  the  right.  3i5 

About  my  neck  twelve  turnips,  strung,  were  plac'd ; 
A  mouse,  in  prison  pent,  my  fingers  grac'd. 
Brave  Doolan's  gift;  scarce  perilous  to  hold, — 
Long  since  found  captur'd,  shrivell'd,  stiff,  and  cold. 
Then  on  my  cheeks  they  rubb'd  a  sanguine  dye,   3-20 
Scrap'd  from  a  pot  of  minium  standing  by. 

tells  us,  RuBF.TA  borrows  the  lovely  tongue  of  Horace,  in  order  to  show 
the  nulls  he  knetv  as  much  as  they .'  for,  adds  this  equitable  interpreter, 
the  hero  was  stung  Avith  envy  to  find  the  sisters  conned  their  prayers 
in  Dutch.  Shame  on  them  all !  Can  the  man  who  quotes  Cicero  by 
mouthfulls  at  a  dinner,  be  so  ignorant  as  to  speak  such  stuff,  or  so  pe- 
dantic as  to  wisli  to  parade  a  knowledge  familiar  to  him  as  a  crust  of 
bread !  I  should  as  soon  pronounce  him  ignorant  of  Hebrew.  The  text 
must  be  adulterated.     But  how  to  restore  it  I  know  not.         ** 

308.  —  th''  IdfBan  bastard  —  ]     ^neas.         *  * 

320,  321.  Then  on  my  cheeks,  etc.]     Some  have  regarded  this  part  of 


CANTO   THIRD.  169 

Monk's  book  of  lies,  like  slave  at  chariot-wheel, 
By  a  long  cord  hung  dragging  at  my  heel. 

Clystera  (now  return'd)  here  stripp'd  my  head  : 
This  hat  shall  bear  the  spoils,  —  the  maiden  said,  325 
My  modest  forehead  crowning,  in  its  place, 
With  the  moist  honors  of  the  pewter  vase ; 
Weighty  withal,  as  well  as  dripping  dew  ; 
For  who  a  crown  will  bear,  must  feel  it  too. 
But  the  false  beaver,  burden'd  with  its  store  33o 

Promiscuous,  gather'd  from  the  wall  and  floor. 
Old  shoes,  hard  mortar,  turnips,  stones,  and  wood, 
Discharg'd  it  all !     Aghast  th'  unspotted  stood, 
And,  mournful,  view'd  my  honors  shed  around, 
Then  snatch'd  the  trophy-bearer  from  the  ground,  335 
And  clapp'd  it  on  her  head  :  the  loosen'd  crown, 
Hing'd  at  one  edge,  went  bobbing  up  and  down. 

The   phalanx   moves: — first,   Boiteuse,   proudly 
bearing. 
High  on  a  twig,  which  clasp'd  their  sinuous  paring. 
Two  huge  potatoes,  demi-peel'd  :   her  next,  340 

The  brine-purg'd  jar  their  twined  arms  betwixt, 
Carotte  and  Leucorrhea  :  then  Fretille  ! 
Around  her  neck  the  biform  braces  still : 

the  decoration  as  effeminate,  and  equally  unworthy  of  the  hero  and  of 
the  grateful  sisterhood.  They  forgot  that  the  Roman  generals  were 
similarly  adorned  in  their  triumphs :  a  fact  which  no  doubt  the  nuns 
were  well  aware  of.        *  * 

22 


170  THE    VISION    OF    RUliETA. 

(Proudly  thou  stepp'st,  fair  vestal !)  :  her  behind, 
PuTAiN,  my  coat-tail  waving  to  the  wind,  345 

And  ever  trilling,  as  she  tripp'd  along. 
In  Chastity's  lov'd  praise,  some  holy  song. 
But  not  the  less,  next  sequent  of  the  train. 
Serin  and  Plainchant  woke  a  nobler  strain. 
Through  the  long  cloister,  loud,  yet  shrill  it  rung ;  35o 
And  this  the  hymn  these  owls  of  beauty  sung  :  — 

Lo  !  on  the  rod  his  sire's  broad  haunches  press'd, 
RuBETA  comes,  our  Mother's  ass  confess'd ! 
Who  smote  the  jars  ?     Who  bade  the  legion  flee  ?' 
Explor'd  the  cave  of  lumber  ?     Who  but  he  ?         355 
See  his  rent  sleeve,  his  hat-crown  beaten  through, 
His  coat-tail  ravish'd,  and  his  braces  too! 
As  clasp  to  book,  as  lid  to  closet-seat, 
As  broom  to  kennel,  kennel  to  the  street. 
So  he  to  us  ;   but  lovelier  still  than  they.  360 

Crawl  out,  ye  vermin !  greet  him  on  his  way. 

Ver.  360,  351.  Through  the  long  cloister,  etc.] 

Through  the  high  lattice  far  yet  sweet  they  rung, 
And  these  the  notes  his  bird  of  beauty  sung. — 

Byron.     Corsair:  Canto  i.  14. 
363.  —  Jlother  —  ]     Mother  Superior,  or  Abbess  :  Mere  Suph-iture. 
Serv.  in  loc, 

354.  —  the  legion  —  ]     Of  murine  devils.     Id. 

358-360.  .'Is  clasp  to  book,  as  lid  to  closet-seat,  —  Jls  broom  to  kennel, 
kennel  to  the  street, —  So  he  lo  us  —  ] 

Vitis  ut  arboribus  decori  est,  ut  vitibus  uvse, 
Ut  gregibus  tauri,  segetes  ut  pinguibus  arvis ; 

Tu  decus  omne  tuis. 

ViRG.  Daphnis,  32. 


CANTO  THIRD.  171 

Lo  !  on  the  rod  his  sire's  broad  haunches  press'd, 
RuBETA  comes,  our  Mother's  ass  conless'd  ! 

Then,  Mother's  ass !  full  swells  the  choral  song ; 
Ass!  DooLAN,  —  Ass!   the  echoes  mild  prolong.    3G5 

Who  follows  next  ?     Ah,  well  I  know  her  mein, 
Crown'd  with  the  dancing  beaver,  graceful  queen  ! 
Then,  on  our  charger,  we  ;  above  us  borne, 
In  regal  state,  a  bended  osier,  torn 
From  the  huge  barr'l  our  prowess  overthrew.  370 

This,  drap'd  with  cobwebs,  held  Belette,  Bossue. 
Nor  songless  our  own  pipe.     We  told  how  Heaven 
Into  our  hands  the  apostles'  pow'r  had  given  : 
Hence  Chemos  fall'n  ;  hence  loos'd  the  mesh  of  sin, 
Though  fenc'd  with  stave  of  oak  thrice  girdled  in.  375 

Ver.  360.  —  but  lovelier  siill  than  they] 

Formosi  pecoris  custos,  forinosior  ipse.     76.  44. 

372,  373.  —  We  told  how  Heaven  —  Into  our  hands  the  apostles^  poiv'r 
had  given  :]  It  is  upon  this  line  in  particular  that  the  zealous  Hardod- 
i:*  supports  his  argument,  that  Rubeta  is  no  other  than  St.  Paul:  an 
identity  which  certainly  is  not  so  wonderful  as  that  of  ^.neas  with  the 
Saviour,  or  of  the  didce  loquens  Lalage  with  the  Christian  religion. 
We  should,  however,  endeavour  to  show  that  it  is  impossible,  despite  the 
strong  metaphorical  similarity  which  Ave  confess  does  exist  (let  us  not 
be  thought  to  speak  irreverently,  though  Ave  are  not  in  orders)  between 
the  nuns  and  the  tottering  churches  Avhich  the  great  Cilician  endeav- 
oured to  sustain  in  their  proper  position ;  but  we  are  saved  the  task  of 
refutation  by  the  illustrious  subject  himself,  Avho  we  understand  is  about 
to  prove  to  the  world,  in  a  forthcoming  publication,  that  he  himself  is 
that  very  apostle  !  as  he  has  already  established  the  fact  of  his  being 
St.  Sebastian  (see  note  to  verse  (i28,  629) ;  and  therefore  tlie  idea  of 
the  learned  Jesuit,  that  this  grand  poem  is  a  compilation  by  tlio  monks 
of  a  past  age,  must  fall  to  the  ground,  and  carry  with  it  all  its  fanciful 
superstructure.  See  the  Chron.  Prolus.  15th  Vol.  37th  chap.  Providence 
edition.         *  * 


172  THE   VISION   OF    RUBETA. 

Pat,  look  on  mc,  (I  sang,)  and  upright  walk. 
The  same  was  written  on  my  hack  in  chalk. 

Then  came  the  barrel,  dragg'd  by  sisters  three, 
Chlorosis,  Hydropique,  red  Bourgeonee. 
Then  Noir(Eil,  Grisceil,  waving  each  a  stave,      380 
Surmounted  with  a  Jordan  of  the  cave. 

Ver.  375,  376.  Pat,  look  on  me.  {I  sang.)  and  upright  walk,  etc.]  Pat, 
you  see  how  uncomfortable  I  sit :  use  your  own  legs,  my  boy.  Vd. 
Schol. 

Look  at  me,  and  never  let  anybody  persuade  you  to  ride.     Lipsius. 

Absurdly,  and  ignorantly.  The  sense  is  better  given  (for  a  wonder) 
by  Servius  : — Pat,  only  see  once  what  a  fine  thing  it  is  to  be  pious; 
always  keep  in  the  path  of  uprightness,  my  good  fellow.  But  No^^•Ius 
refers  the  sense  to  Pat's  imprudent  affection  for  whiskey,  bewailed  by 
RuBETA  in  a  former  line,  and  thus  interprets  the  passage  :  — Pat,  you 
see  how  straight  I  sit,  even  here :  imitate  me,  and  don't  make  any  more 
snake-fences. 

Be  the  meaning  as  it  may,  there  is  a  striking  coincidence  between 
this  part  of  the  text  and  the  story  told  of  Sethos,  king  of  Egypt  and 
priest  of  Vulcan,  who,  in  commemoration  of  a  victory  achieved  in  his 
favor  over  Sennacherib,  by  means  of  an  army  of  mice,  which,  directed 
by  Heaven,  rendered  the  weapons  of  his  enemies  useless,  was  repre- 
sented in  sculpture  with  a  mouse  in  his  hand,  and  an  epigraph  teaching 
the  moral  of  his  fortune  as  the  reward  of  piety  :  — 

Kai  vvv  euros  i  (iatriXtus  ifTttKi  £»  toi  i^ta  Tov  'H^aiFTOu  X'lhiei,  'i^cuv  tTi  rric 
%iipis  f'Vt,     Xiyuv  oia.  yoafiftxruit  Tail  ' 

E2  EME  TI2  'OPEnN,  ET2EBH2  E2Tn. 

Herod,  ii.  141. 

#  * 

881.  —  of  the  cave]  Found  in  the  lumber-vault.  Vet.  Schol.  Lip- 
less,  or  otherwise  broken.     Id. 

Both  :  see  v.  21.     Indeed,  the  Venet.  edd.  of  1497,  1499,  etc.  have: 

rearing  on  a  stave 

A  lipless  Jordan,  gathered  from  the  cave. 

One  edition  only,  the  elegant  impression  of  the  elder  Grtphics,  1543, 
has: 

A  chamber-chalice  borrowed  fro7n  the  cave.        ** 


CANTO   THIRD.  173 

Lastly,  the  nymphs  of  minor  note  appear. 
A  carboy  in  each  hand,  Pat  slopes  the  rear. 

As  the  heap'd  clouds,  their  work  of  mercy  done, 
Roll,  pile  on  pile,  before  the  emerging  sun  ;  385 

As  in  a  calm  the  dull  sea's  lengthen'd  swell ; 
Or,  on  a  summer's  eve,  when  winds  are  still. 
Gently  the  curling  billows  lave  the  shore, 
Then  slow  retire  ;  nor  harsh  their  gather'd  roar : 
With  such  dark  pomp,  majestically  slow,  390 

Through  the  long  aisle  the  solemn  sisters  flow. 
But   groan'd   Culasse,   and   writh'd   her  Flemish 
haunch  :  — 
Would  smaller  puddings  stuff'd  that  graceful  paunch ! 
—  Delighted  still  to  bear  thee,  (Bouffie  sighs)  ; 
But,  Mystic  Rose  !  who  ever  felt  such  thighs  !      395 

O  murm'ring  subjects !  think  ye  then,  indeed. 
Your  chief  rides  easy  on  this  sharp-back'd  steed  ? 
But  what  is  pain  to  glory  ?  (I  reply'd :) 
What  chafing  to  Rubeta's  martial  pride. 
Dear  to  this  heart,  as  sunshine  to  the  day? —        400 
Yet,  bear  me  gently,  —  lest  the  pins  give  way. 

And  now,  before  the  pensive  Mother  come, 
Bless'd  by  the  priest  which  chatter'd  on  her  thumb, 
(The  holy  pair,  by  flying  courier  warn'd, 
To  do  me  grace  that  hour  the  hall  adorn'd,)  405 

Ver.  395,  —  Mystic  Rose  I  —  ]     One  of  the  sacred  titles  adapted  from 
Scripture,  by  the  Romish  Church,  to  the  mother  of  the  Redeemer.       *  * 


174  THE    VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

Back  fell  the  van,  the  rein'd-iii  courser  stay'd, 
And  the  chief  stood  amid  his  host  displaj'd. 

Then  rose  the  hawk-bilFd  queen,  whose  marriage- 
bed 
In  nuptial  bow'r  of  Heav'n  alone  is  spread, 
And  bowing  thrice,  (whereat  I  rais'd  my  crown,    4io 
And,  gracious,  three  times  wav'd  it  up  and  down,) 
Hail  son  !  —  she  crj'd,  —  return'd  from  parlous  fight, 
Deck'd  with  thy  laurels  as  becomes  a  knight. 
Blest,  who  dar'st  fathom  any  jakes  profound. 
Nor  fear'st  a  host  of  turnips  under  ground  !  —        4i5 
More  had  she  said  ;  but  Bouffie,  sad  to  tell ! 
Here  slipp'd  her  hold,  and  down  Rubeta  fell. 

O,  such  a  vary'd  clamor  as  then  rose  ! 
See,  PuTAiN,  see !   thy  pins  desert  his  hose ! 
And     pray'd     green     Richards,    and    each     virgin 
hand,  420 

Yer.  41-2.  — parlous  —  ]  Considered  by  Jumus  a  corruption  of  peril- 
ous;  and  rightly,  says  Johnson.  The  Abbess,  therefore,  or  Rubeta  for 
her,  would  seem  rather  to  restore  the  word  to  its  primitive  sense,  than  to 
strain  the  expression.  Though  some  commentators  maintain  that  it  is 
here  used  in  the  vulgar  sense,  to  denote  an  enterprise  which  had  tasked 
the  wits  of  our  hero  still  more  than  his  courage.  But  some  copies  read 
perilous,  and  not  a  few  perUous.  The  latter  reading  is  a  cacophonous 
barbarism,  unworthy  equally  of  the  gravity  of  the  Poem,  and  of  the 
exalted  rank  of  the  speaker.  *  * 
414,  415.  Blest,  who  dar^st,  etc.] 

Felix,  qui  potuit  rerum  cognoscere  caussas  ; 
Atquc  metus  omnes,  et  inexorabile  fatum, 

Subjecit  pedibus, 

ViRG.  Georir.  ii.  490. 


CANTO  THIRD.  175 

Or  Strove  to  lift  me  up,  or  hoist  my  baud. 
But  shriek'd  the  Mother's  fife  'bove  all  their  pitches:  — 
Daughters,  for  shame  !  let  go  the  hero's  breeches ! 
Hither,     Fretille  :     Pucelle,     don't     pinch     his 

thighs  : 
Crown  him  once  more,  and  help  the  saint  to  rise.   425 
I  have  two  garters,  each  a  yard  in  length ; 
White  are  they  not,  yet  of  exceeding  strength  ; 
These,  wed  in  one,  may  gird  a  waist  so  small. 
And  keep  immur'd,  what  else  might  shame  us  all. 

She  said,  and,  gently  whipping  up  her  train,       430 
Slid  back  her  hand,  and  straight  undid  the  twain. 


Ver.  425.  Crown  him  once  more  —  ]  Rubeta  has  not  mentioned  the 
loss  of  his  tiara  ;  but  it  is  easy  to  imagine  that  so  heavy  a  headpiece 
would  liardly  keep  its  gravity  where  its  wearer  could  not  his.         *  * 

430,431.  She  said,  and,  ^entlv  u'hipping  up  her  train,  —  Slid  back  her 
hand,  and  straight  undid  the  iivain.]  All  the  critics,  commentators,  and 
translators,  are  in  raptures  with  this  trait  of  modesty  in  the  Abbess. 
Madame  Dacier  says,  that  it  is  an  evidence  at  once  of  the  high  rank 
and  gentle  breeding  of  the  party,  so  that,  were  we  not  told  expressly 
it  was  the  Mother  Superior  who  did  the  act  of  charity,  we  should  know 
her  hand  by  the  very  fact  of  her  putting  it  behind  her.  A  remark  in 
which  we  coincide  most  cordially  ;  for,  if  you  will  walk  the  streets 
during  church-hours  on  Sunday,  you  will  see  many  a  sturdy  servingmaid, 
whose  stockings  threaten  a  descent,  stop  before  a  door,  cock  up  her  leg 
upon  the  third  step,  and,  turning  up  her  coats  in  front,  arrange  the 
matter  without  regard  to  your  blushes,  and  be  long  enough  about  it  to 
give  you  time  to  cast  a  problem  in  the  Mensuration  of  Solids :  there- 
fore the  backward  motion,  the  suddenness,  the  grace  of  the  action,  mark 
at  once  the  lady,  and  the  "  lady  superior."         *  * 

There  is  one  thing',  however,  which  seems  lo  have  escaped  ihe  Editor.  Rubeta's 
practical  knowledge  in  all  things  pertaining  to  the  fair  was  certainly  to  be  dreaded  by 
one,  who,  being  "  past  age,"  might  not  possess  that  roundness  of  contour  which  is 
said  to  delight  the  eyes  of  connoisseurs.     Corr. 


176  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

These  took  Fretille,  and  coupled  them,  still  warm, 
With  facile  fingers  girt  my  pliant  form, 
Then  help'd  me  rise,  and  whisper'd  (angel  sweet !), — 
There  wanted  this  ;  now.  Saint,  thou  art  complete.  435 

On  foot,  my  charger  leading  in  the  hand, 
Before  the  Abbess,  then,  I  took  my  stand. 
Mother,  (I  said,)  his  grateful  labors  through, 
Lo,  your  bruis'd  son  now  waits  to  bid  adieu. 
Witness  the  tears,  which  rain  from  these  sad  eyes,  440 
Forc'd  by  no  common  fate  your  walls  he  flies ! 
Too  happy,  could  he  but  his  stay  prolong, 
And  pray  with  thee,  and  Richards,  all  night  long. 
Ye  too,  dear  maids,  who,  wedded  to  the  Lord, 
Scorn  the  lewd  pastime  nuptial  rites  afford,  445 

Farewell !  —  thrice  blest ;  for  whom  no  seas  by  steam 
Are   plough'd  ;    with  whom   the    drowsy  brain   may 

dream. 
O  were  I  but  a  maid  ;    O  had  this  face, 
This  double  chin,  no  excrement  to  rase  ; 


Ver.  440.  —  the  tears,  which  rain  from  these  sad  eyes,]  A  sensibility 
greatly  to  be  admired  in  our  hero,  (as  we  think  we  have  shown  before,) 
and  which  has  its  parallels  in  the  heroes  of  Homer.  So  does  ^neas 
weep  on  a  similar,  though  very  inferior  occasion: 

Hos  ego  digrediens  lacrymis  affabar  obortis,  etc. 

.En.  iii.  492.        *  * 
446,  447.  — for  whom  no  seas  by  steam  —  Are  plough'd ;  with  whom 
the  drowsy  brain  may  dream.] 

Vobis  parta  quies  :  nullum  maris  sequor  arandum.       lb.  495. 
448.  O  were  I  but  a  viaid  —  ]     Cerdanus  explains  it  into  a  regret 


CANTO   THIRD.  177 

To  Chastity  I  'd  dedicate  my  hair,  450 

And  consecrate  my  life  to  pills  and  pray'r. 

Then  shotdd  ye  call  me  Sister,  then  these  hips 

No  ravelPd  brace  should  tantalize  in  slips, 

But  petticoats  adorn  my  virgin  thighs, 

And  a  black  cap  add  lustre  to  my  eyes.  455 

O  life  of  ease  !  O  joys  to  fancy  dear ! 

And  shall  Rubeta  never  know  ye  near  ? 

Ah !  might  the  soul  unbar  her  cage  at  will, 

Then  should  his  spirit  mingle  with  you  still, 

of  Rubeta  that  he  is  married.  The  learned  Spaniard  forgot  tiiat  the 
hero,  as  he  is  an  epitome  of  all  the  virtues,  cannot  be  deficient  in  conju- 
gal attachment.  Tlie  author  of  the  Pr'utpeia  has  anotlier  interpretation 
even  less  tolerable.  The  simplest  meaning  is  undoubtedly  the  true  one  ; 
namely  :  O  were  I  not  a  man :  a  sense  immediately  confirmed,  where,  in 
the  subsequent  line,  explaining  at  once  and  extending  the  idea,  he  says, 
O  had  I  not  a  beard.         *  * 

454.  —  virgin  thighs,]  As  henceforth  dedicate  to  Chastity.  Ursinus, 
PoNTANOS,  Tan.  Faber,  &c.,  &.C. —  Virgin  here  signifies  the  nature, 
and  character  so  to  speak,  of  the  hero's  limbs,  after  induing  the  sacred 
vesture  of  a  nun.  Mad.  Dacier.  —  We  think,  improperly.  But  the  point 
is  so  doubtful,  that  we  leave  it  to  the  reader  to  decide.  Gruterus 
translates  it  white,  soft,  polished,  such  as  suit  a  maid.  Our  own  opinion 
is,  that  Rubeta  means  to  denote  the  shrinking  bashfulness  of  those 
parts,  or  perhaps  their  blushes  and  confusion  at  the  nature  of  the  in- 
vestment: an  opinion  directly  backed  by  the  beautiful  MS.  lately  dis- 
covered in  the  library  at  Passamaquoddy,  which  reads  modest,  and 
perhaps  by  Muretus,  who,  I  am  told,  quoting  in  an  unpublished  book 
this  very  passage,  writes,  from  I  know  not  what  text, 

The  petticoat  would  grace  mrj  blushing  thighs.         *  * 

458.  ^h  !  might  the  soul  unbar  her  cage  at  will,]  A  power  said  to  have 
been  possessed  by  Aristeas  of  Proconnesus: 

^Apurriou  raZ  Tleoxavvttriou  (pair)  rn^  •^u^hn  i%i'iMai  on  iZoiXiro,  koi  tvaviivai  •rakiv. 

Hesych.  IUus.  dc  Quorund.  Sapient,  libell.  (Extat  ad  calccm  Diog.  Laert. 
edit.  Casaub.) 
The  expression  of  the  wish  in  the  text  would  seem  to  have  been 
23 


178  THE  VISION  OF  RUIiETA. 

Despise  for  you  the  bower  on  College-green,  4U0 

Couch  ill  your  laps,  and  cloze  with  you  unseen. 
Meanwhile  this  clay,  these  fingers  should  remain, 
And  do  his  jobs  at  home,  which  need  no  brain. 
This  were  a  life  !   this,  this  were  to  be  blest ! 
But  this —    No  more  !   my  tears  supply  the  rest.    465 
And  must  thou  go  ?  —  the  pensive  Mother  sigh'd, — 
Thou  lov'd  of  maids  !   my  own  dear  joy  !   my  pride  ! 
Cruel !  Ah,  had  1  been  indulg'd  one  kiss, 
One  chaste  impress  of  that  pure  mouth  on  this, 

anticipativo  of  the  hero's^  subsequent  conversion  to  animal  magnetism. 
By  the  by,  would  it  not  be  a  proper  subject  of  inquiry  for  the  magnetic 
doctors  of  the  learned  city  of  Provide.\ce,  whether  the  Proconnesian 
poet  employed  the  same  means,  (the  kneading  of  the  belly,  etc.) 
Avhich  plumed  the  ubiquitous  spirit  of  Loraina,  and  made  it  fit  company 
for  the  feathered  soul  of  Rubeta,  "used  to  that  mode  of  travelling"? 
We  suggest  the  proposition  in  all  humility.  Solomon  has  said  that 
there  is  nothing  new  under  tiie  sun  ;  and  science  is  interested  in  tracing 
all  inventions  to  their  true  original.  Might  not  the  seven-league  boots  of 
the  Polyphemic  Fee-fo-fum  have  been  a  magnetic  apparatus,  whose  con- 
trivance is  now  unhappily  lost  to  the  world,  —  unless  happily  a  Capron 
should  restore  it  ?         *  * 

46C.  —  the  boiver  on  College-green,']     Not,  as  the  author  of  the  Pick- 
wick Club  has  it,  "  one  of  those  sweet  retreats,  which  humane  men  erect 
for  the  accommodation  of  spiders,"  but  the  identical  study  in  the  identi- 
cal house  wherein  the  miraculous  Brackett,  after  being  twice  told 
(pp.  2d,  29,  0^  An.  Magn.)  its  precise  locality,  exclaimed  so  wonderfully, 
"  It  would  be  so  sweet  to  sit  and  look  out  of  those  windows  on  the 
green"  (p.  33);  the  bower,  in  fine,  of  which  the  hero  said  to  his  sister 
spirit,  "This  is  my  den —  my  lileranj  workshop  —  where  I  can  shut  my- 
self up,  and  be  as  secluded  as  I  please.     I  built  it  on  purpose."  (p.  39.)  j 
468  -470.  —  Jlh,  had  I  been  indulged  one  kiss, —  One,  etc.  etc.] 
Saltern,  si  qua  mihi  de  te  suscepta  fuisset 
Ante  fugam  soboles  ;  si  quis  mihi  parvulus  aula 
Luderet  yEneas,  qui  te  tamen  ore  rcferret ; 
Non  cquidem  omnino  capta  ac  deserta  viderer. 

^n.  iv.  327-330. 


CANTO   THIRD.  179 

Not  wholly  then  deserted  should  1  be  !  470 

Yet  go  where  Glory  calls  thee  ;    mind  not  me. 
Go !  and  when  beauteous  eyes  repose  on  thine, 
As  Eden's  figtree  forms  thy  theme  divine, 
And,  in  the  smiles  of  simpering  dames  around. 
Thou  read'st  their  wish  to  press  the  seat  of  sound,  475 
Then  think  on  me.     Adieu  !  O  God  !    adieu  ! 
I  bed  with  Richards,  but  my  heart  's  with  you. 

Then  Putain  sigh'd,  —  1  shall  not  sleep  to-night ! 
Nor  I,  —  sobb'd  Boiteuse,  —  by  this  blessed  light! 
Nor  I  !   nor  I !  —  in  chorus  chim'd  the  rest.  480 

Green  Father  Richards  equal  cares  confest. 

Forth  burst  Clyster  a  :  —  Stay  !  before  you  move, 
Accept  these  tokens  of  your  handmaid's  love  ; 


Ver.  469.  One  chaste  impress  of  that  pure  viouth  on  this,]  We  ought  to 
mention  to  the  reader,  that  the  beauty  of  the  hero's  mouth,  which  is  fully 
described  in  Canto  iv.,  is  something  remarkable.  Hence,  perhaps,  the 
abbess'  strong  desire  here,  and  in  Canto  i.,  to  touch  it ;  for  women, 
even  "past  age,"  are  never  insensible  to  great  comeliness  in  men.  My 
own  wife,  (as  will  be  seen  in  Canto  iv.,)  Avas  so  overcome  by  this  prodi- 
gious feature,  that  I  had  great  difficulty  in  keeping  her  in  decent  bounds. 

*  # 

473.  ^s  Udell's  figtree  forms  thy  theme  divine,]  At  his  lectures,  of 
which  of  course  the  Mother  had  been  informed  by  the  voice  of  Fame,  as 
we  on  our  side  of  the  border  hear  of  the  speeches  of  Sutherland.  See 
Canto  ii.  498.         *  * 

Might  not  the  sisters  have  been  listening  to  the  hero's  soliloquy  (Can- 
to ii.  498),  and  have  reported  it  to  the  Lady  Superior  ?     Corr. 

477.  1  bed  with  Richards,  but  my  heart  '«  with  you.]  Here  follow,  in  the 
more  ancient  editions,  some  twenty  verses,  showing  how  the  abbess  ad- 
vised the  hero  (advice  too  fatally  neglected!)  before  he  should  visit 
Bruno,  to  consult  the  prophetess  Loraina,  with  an  obscure  description 
of  the  sibyl's  residence,  and  an  intimation  of  one  Dr.  Capon.  *  * 


ISO  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

(Extending,  as  she  spoke,  with  earnest  tone, 

A  goat's  drj'd  bladder  and  a  pipe  of  bone)  :  485 

Take  these, —  she  said; — and  when,  distent  with  beans, 

Thy  gusty  bowels  writhe  in  travail-pains. 

Embrace  the  plenish'd  sack;  its  warm  tears  shed, 

In  jets,  will  give  thee  comfort,  in  my  stead. 

Too  happy  pipe  !  thrice  happy  bladder  too  !  490 

Would,  would  my  hand  might  go  along  with  you  ! 

The  rest  brought  unguent,  balsam,  wash,  and  pill. 
And  with  the  treasure  every  pocket  fill. 
And  has  thy  father's  saddle  made  thee  sore. 
Rub  on  this  salve  ;    the  groin  shall  fret  no  more.     495 
Rub  on  this  salve,  (each  urg'd,)  and  think  on  me. 
Thunder'd  the  Friar,  —  Semper  vergine  ! 

Nor  this  was  all  :  the  very  vase  they  stor'd 
With  nostrums  chosen  from  their  chemic  hoard. 
These  since  are  gone,  for  various  sorts  of  gripes.    500 
The  vase  I  would  have  truck'd  for  Connor's  types. 
Connor  declin'd.    I  planted  stonecrop  then; 
And  the  pot  grac'd  an  air-hole  of  my  den. 

Ver.  497.  Thunder' dike  Friar, —  "  Se.mpervergine  !  "  ]  From  which  mis- 
conception of  sound,  we  gather  the  interesting  but  afflictive  fact,  that  the 
reverend  personage  was  somewhat  advanced  in  years  and  hard  of  hearing. 

However,  the  grateful  epitheton,  with  which  the  Father  facetiously  tips 
the  nuns'  too  modest  jne,  is  from  his  recollection  of  the  tail  of  a  monastic 
prayer  :  "  Beata  Maria  semper  vergine  intercedente."        *  * 

501.  Connor  —  ]     The  principal  typefounder  in  Manhattan.         *  * 

602.  — 1  planted  stonecrop  then  ;]     Why  stonecrop?  JVon  liquet.  ** 

603.  — den.]  "Den,"  "private  den,"  "  hterary  workshop,"  are  pet 
names  for  the  little  piggery,  we  mean  "  snuggery,'''  into  which  the  hero 


CANTO  THIRD.  181 

Nor  in  like  court'sies  did  your  cliieftain  fail. 
My  hat,  (he  said,)  my  braces,  eke  my  tail,  5or> 

I  leave  with  you;  Fretille's,  Clvstera's,  those; 
PuTAiN  enjoys  the  last:  and  God  he  knows, 
Could  I  go  naked,  I  would  leave  my  breeches  ! 
But  take  this  volume  of  my  Talcs  and  Sketches, 
Which,  for  my  solace,  everywhere  I  carry.  sio 

'T  is  dirty,  you  will  find ;   but  witty,  —  very  ! 
So  the  fam'd  spring,  where  languid  Fashion  drinks. 
Gives  health  and  tone,  and  sparkles,  though  it  stinks. 


led  the  modest  and  guileless  Loraina,  when  "  wrapped  in  insensible 
slumber  so  profound  that  the  discharge  of  a  park  of  artillery  would  not 
disturb  her."  See  Lett,  on  An.  Magn.  pp.  38,  39,  1st  ed. ;  or  the  note  to 
V.  4G0. 

"  By  the  by,"  says  Mr.  Dickens,*  "we  scarcely  ever  knew  a  man  who 
never  read  or  wrote  either,  who  hadn't  got  some  small  back  parlor 
which  he  would  call  a  study  :"  and  we,  too,  scarcely  ever  knew  a  man 
who  scribbled  shilling  pamphlets,  or  wrote  scandal  for  a  newspaper,  that 
had  not  some  back-closet  which,  in  facetious  imitation  of  a  great  man's 
affected  humility,  he  would  call  his  den  or  workshop.  A  remark,  howev- 
er, which  we  would  not  for  the  world  apply  to  the  erudite  Rubeta. 

#* 

509.  —  this  volume,  etc.]     See  note  to  v.  520,  521.        *  * 
511.  —  willy,  — vei-y !  ]    Rubeta's  very  just  impression  of  his  own  ex- 
traordinary facetiousness  we  have  already  seen  in  Canto  ii.  388-390. 

612.  —  the  fam'd  spring,  ichere  languid  Fashion  drinks,]  At  Saratoga, 
in  the  State  of  New  York  ?         *  * 

611-513.  ^Tis  dirty  you  will  find;  but  ivitty,  —  very!  —  So  the  fam^d 
spring,  etc.]  The  hero's  modesty  is,  in  this  place,  rather  too  self-depre- 
ciating. We,  for  our  part,  really  consider  the  delicacy  and  almost  effem- 
inate refinement  of  the  "  Tales  and  Sketches  "  even  greater  than  their  wit. 

*  In  those  very  clever  sketches  of  vulgar  life,  the  Post.  Papers  of  the  Pk.  Club,  (pt. 
iv.  p.  18.  Phil.) 


182  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

And  thou,  too,  Richards  !  bird  of  parlous  beak! 

Nibble  this  peanut  for  Rubeta's  sake.  5i5 

'T  is  the  last  left,  of  half  a  pint  or  more, 

Bought  when,  departing  from  Manhattan's  shore, 

I  beat  the  porter  down,  despite  his  fence, 

And  sav'd  three  coppers  out  of  eighteen  pence. 

Let  the  reader  taste  the  following  delicious  cut  from  the  tender-loin, 
and  judge  for  himself:  — 

" '  I  '11  be  blamed,  if  you  'd  seen  Jim  Fairbanks  storm  a  hen-roost  to- 
night, as  I  done,  you  'd  laughed  ready  to  split.' 

"  'Yes,  I  guess  you  would,'  added  another;  '  when  he  slipped  off  the 
ladder  into  the  cow-pen.' 

"  '  Hold  your  tongue.  Bill  Conkling,'  replied  the  soldier  who  had  en- 
countered the  misfortune  ;  '  if  you  don't  leave  off  poking  fun  at  me,  I  '11 
smash  you  into  a  cocked-up-hat,  I  tell  ye.' 

"  '  O  don't,'  said  another  ;  'for  he  's  dreadful  handsome,  and  if  you 
dew  it,  there  's  Molly  Butterfield  will  cry  like  blazes.'  " 

Then  a  speaker  proceeds  to  tell,  how  one  Joe  Miller  "  was  jumping 
over  "  some  "  burs,"  when  "  an  old  critter  catched  him  by  the  waistband 
of  his  breeches,  and  shook  him  like  a  dog  would  a  black  snake,  a  pretty 
considerable  time.  But  the  string  'gin  way,  and  Joe  he  fell  smack 
into  the  mud,  as  if  heaven  and  'arth  were  coming  together."  Then 
Joe  enters  "  in  a  sorrowful  pickle  sure  enough,"  —  "  holding  up  his  trow- 
sers ; "  and  the  dialogue  is  renewed. 

"  'Then  you  found  the  old  man  a  raal  sneezer,  Joe,'  inquired  the 
worthy  lieutenant  in  command. 

'"I  '11  be  darn'd  if  I  didn't,'  replied  Joe;  'and  I  '11  be  shaved  into 
a  meat-axe,  if  I  aint  up  to  him  for  it  yet,  some  day  or  other.'  " 
M\jst.  Bridal.    [Tales  and  Sh     Svch,  &c.  vol.  ii.  pp.  102,  103.) 

The  astonished  reader  will  not  find  it  easy  to  believe,  that  one  man 
could  be  the  sole  author  of  such  transcendent  wit  and  elegant  humor, 
wit  and  humor  so  sustained ;  but  I  assure  him  we  could  fill  twenty  or 
thirty  pages  with  such  delicacies,  from  the  same  volumes,  if  not  from  the 
self-same  story  of  the  "  Mysterious  Bridal."  We  refer  him  therefore  to 
the  work  itself,  which  will  repay,  over  and  over,  for  the  cost  of  the  two 
volumes,  him,  and  his  licirs  and  assigns,  to  the  fifteenth  generation.    *  * 

613,  619.  /  beat  the  porter  down,  despite  his  fen^,  —  And  sav^d  three 
coppers  out  of  eighteen  pence.]  Very  absurdly  condemned,  by  some  of 
the  commentators,  as  an  act  of  meanness.     Now  we  uphold,  that  genius 


CANTO   THIRD.  183 

Take  it,  my  son  !  kind  Heaven  it  sav'd  for  thee,  520 
Deep  in  this  pocket,  and  deny'd  to  me. 
And  shall  I  not  one  token,  too,  select?  — 
Peace,  Friar,  peace  !  't  is  done  in  all  respect. 

I  said,  and  pluck'd,  six  digits  from  his  waistcoat, 
One  plume,  the  flamen  screaming,  Requiescat !      525 
Then,  gathering  up  Monk's  book,  to  take  the  place 
Of  my  own  Tales ^  unworthy  such  a  grace, 
The  vase  beneath  my  wing,  —  Fruits  of  my  toil. 
These  roots  I  '11  carry  home  with  me  to  boil, — 

is  no  way  better  displayed  than  in  driving  a  bargain,  especially  with  a 
poor  man.  This  being  granted,  it  follows,  that  the  more  nearly  you 
drive  the  bargain,  the  greater  is  the  force  of  intellect  displayed.  There- 
fore, to  make  a  common  porter  take  fifteen  pence  when  his  lawful  fare  is 
eighteen,  and  tliis,  too,  notwithstanding  all  his  skill  in  parrying,  ("  de- 
spite his  fence,")  is  a  most  glorious  acliievement  of  the  intellect,  worthy 
of  the  antagonist  of  Mo.\k  and  the  immortal  expounder  of  animal  mag- 
netism.    Q.  E.  D.         *  * 

520, 521.  —  kind  Heaven  it  sav^dfor  thee,  —  Deep  in  this  pocket,  and  deny^d 
to  me.']  It  certainly  would  seem  to  be  a  most  signal  interposition  of 
Providence,  that  this  solitary  nut  should  remain  buried  in  an  obscure 
corner  of  his  pocket,  escape  his  frequent  and  long  exploring,  (which  we 
gather  from  the  phrase  "  deny'd  to  me,")  and  now  only  brought  to  light 
when,  as  we  suppose,  he  drew  out  the  immortal  volume  of  his  master- 
piece.    St.  Augustine, 

An  interposition  doubly  visible,  since  what  was  to  prevent  the  nuns' 
selecting  this  individual  skirt  (we  presume  it  was  the  pocket  of  his  upper 
garment)  to  tear  away,  instead  of  tlie  other  ?         *  * 

525. —  Requiescat !  ]  i.  e.  Let  it  be  !  —  The  modest  circumlocution  by 
which  the  hero  expresses  the  parrot's  rump,  in  the  preceding  line,  can- 
not be  too  much  admired.         *  * 

526, 527.  Then,  gathering  up  Monk's  book,  to  take  the  place  —  Of  my  own 
Tales,  unworthy  such  a  grace,]  An  amphibology  ;  Scaliger  says,  wil- 
ful on  the  part  of  the  Poet.  *  * 

629.  — roots  —  ]  Not  the  medicinal  preparations  in  the  Jordan,  as 
Seevius  absurdly  supposes,  but  the  esculent  vegetables  which,  it  may  be 
remembered,  were  pendant  from  his  neck.        *  * 


184  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

I   said:  —  Once  more,   dear  saints,  —  Fretille  !  — 
adieu !  530 

Soon  shall  the  press  give  brave  accounts  of  you. 
Not  such  as,  in  her  after-dinner  doze, 
Dame  Irving  ravels  from  her  worn-out  hose ; 

Ver.  &3-2.  —  aflcr-dinnsr  dnze,'\  "  Non  bonus  somnus  cstde  prandio,"  sayg 
the  Scholiast,  quotinjr  from  Plautus,  [Mostdl.  A.  3.  Sc.  ii.  v.  8.);  seeming 
thereby  to  intimate,  that  the  old  lady  ravelled  her  stockings  when  she 
was  asleep.  But  the  Poet  writes,  precisely,  doze ;  which  is  a  state  nei- 
ther waking  nor  sleeping.  Therefore  understand  it,  ravelled  drowsily, 
heavily,  languidhj ;  or  better,  as  more  applicable  to  tlie  particular  stock- 
ings in  question,  ravelled  al  a  time  ivhen  she  coidd  do  nothing  more  use- 
ful.        *  * 

532,  533.  JVot  such  OS,  in  her  after-dinner  doze,  —  Dame  Ibfino  ravels 
from  her  tvorn-out  hose,  etc.]  See  the  Crayon  Miscellany  everywhere, 
but  especially  the  volume  which  talks  something  or  other  about  Sir 
Walter  Scott  and  about  Newstead  Abbey.  How  in  the  name  of 
wonder,  though,  Rdbeta  should  contrive  to  fall  upon  this  truth,  is  better 
known  to  himself  than  to  his  readers,  as  will  be  seen  anon  (Canto  iv.). 
It  may,  however,  have  been  in  the  moment  of  inspiration  which  the 
success  of  his  enterprise,  and  his  exaltation  by  the  nuns,  had  given  him, 
or  through  the  suggestions  of  envy,  which  makes  up  in  private  for  any 
adulation  it  may  pay  a  great  name  in  public.     Anon. 

We  are  surprised  at  this  observation  ;  since  to  us  it  is  very  manifest, 
that  RuBETA  was  quite  able  to  discover  a  fact  which  is  so  gross  a  child 
might  feel  it  blindfold;  only  his  amiability,  like  that  of  all  his  brethren 
from  one  end  of  the  United  States  to  the  other,  makes  him  loath  to  say 
any  thing  publicly  against  the  literary  merits  of  a  popular  literary  char- 
acter. However,  see  v.  708  of  the  4th  Canto,  which  is  the  passage 
"Anon."  would  appear  to  refer  to.         ** 

632-535.  JVot  such  OS,  ctc. —  Which  we  the  town  for  bran-new  ivorsted 
buy,  —  Jlnd  quote  as  extra  fne,  yet  know  not  ivhy ;]  See  the  more  re- 
cent publications  of  that  distinguished  author.  According  to  the  French 
Theophrastus,  "  II  n'est  pas  si  ais6  de  se  faire  un  nom  par  un  ouvrage 
parfait,  que  d'on  faire  valoir  un  mediocre  j)ar  le  nom  qu'on  s'est  d^ja 
acquis."  (Chap.  1".) 

This,  I  have  no  doubt,  will  be  the  first  time  that  Mr.  Irving  has  heard 
the  truth  since  he  rose  to  eminence ;  (such  being  a  consequence  of 
greatness,  even  where  more  the  result  of  accident  than  of  merit ; )  and 
that  we  may  not  be  thought  to  speak  it  only  in  a  spirit  of  invidiousness, 
it  becomes  us  to  show  that  we  are  not  the  last  of  his  admirers ;  al- 


CANTO  THIRD.  185 

Which  we  the  town  for  bran-new  worsted  buy, 
And  quote  as  extra-fine,  yet  know  not  why  ;  535 

though  we  are  not  so  young  as  to  grow  passionate  in  liis  praises,  nor  so 
old  as  to  slabber  him  witli  unmeaning  slaver.  Mr.  Irving's  distinguish- 
ing excellence,  then,  is  good  taste  ;  a  merit  in  composition  not  the  com- 
monest in  this  day.  He  never  attempts  to  soar  Avhere  it  is  his  business 
to  keep  upon  the  ground,  nor  to  burst  into  flame  where  coolness  is 
more  desirable.  Then,  he  has  a  quiet  and  delightful  humor  that  is 
found  in  but  few  writers  besides  himself,  and  those  entirely,  1  believe, 
of  a  past  age.  Subjects  Avhich  would  be  vulgar  in  the  hand  of  almost  any 
other  man  become  pictures  for  a  cabinet  in  his :  such,  for  instance,  as 
where  the  little  dog  (in  Bracebridge  Hall)  is  painted  with  his  tail  twisted 
so  tight  as  to  lift  him  up  from  his  hind  legs.  It  is  in  these  representa- 
tions, in  minute  and  accurate  drawings  of  the  minor  details  of  com- 
mon life,  that  Mr.  Irving  shows  himself  most  truly  a  master :  (we  are 
using  the  word  with  deliberation,  be  it  observed,  and  not  as  a  sixpenny 
reviewer.)  What  the  best  pictures  of  the  Flemish  and  Dutch  schools 
are  to  the  art  of  painting,  such  are  Geoffrey  Crayon's  writings  to  the 
productions  of  the  pen  in  general.  (Of  this  kind  of  excellence  the  latest 
example  he  has  furnished,  that  we  know  of,  is  a  little  piece  published  in 
one  of  the  annuals,  and  entitled  T7ie  Creole  Village.)  But  here  Mr.  Irving's 
praises  must  end.  He  is  never  great ;  he  has  no  fire  ;  he  never  tells  you 
any  thing  that  is  new  to  you,  (I  mean  to  the  most  ordinary  readers  :  to 
the  scholar  and  the  philosopher  nothing  in  any  writer  is  absolutely  new, 
where  the  only  variety  one  can  introduce  is  in  the  mode  of  expressing 
what  has  been  said  again  and  again  before  him,  and  shall  be  said  again 
and  again  years  after  he  is  dead.)  As  the  author  of  the  Sketch  Book 
began,  so  he  continues,  and  so  will  end.  His  Reflections  in  West- 
minster Abbey,  etc.,  were  those  which  may  be  found  in  your  youngest 
son's  youngest  composition  ;  thougli  rarely  will  your  eldest  son  be  able, 
with  long  study  and  years  of  polisliing,  to  tell  them  half  so  well.  And 
this  being  the  case,  it  were  well  if  Mr.  Irving  retired  from  the  field 
and  hung  his  trophies  o^er  his  garden  gate.*  But  the  desire  of  still  keep- 
ing before  the  public,  and,  we  nearly  added,  the  love  of  money-making, 
are  stronger  even  than  the  caution  which  is,  I  should  judge,  a  part  of  his 
character  ;  and  those  who  really  admire  this  excellent  writer,  (and  they 
are  not  those  who  flatter  liim  most,)  these,  I  say,  must  regret  to  see  Jiim 

*  Pope's  parody  of  Horace  : 

Our  gen'rals  now,  rctir'd  to  llicir  estates, 

Hang  iheir  old  tropliius  o'er  tlie  garden  gales.     Epist.  i.  7. 

24 


186  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

But  something  novel,  something  men  may  spell. 
Once  more,  O  virgins,  oh  !  —  a  last  —  Farewell ! 

daicdlin^  in  such  books  as  the  Crayon  Miscellany,  or  playing  the  old 
man  prematurely  in  tlie  wire-drawn  wordiness  of  an  Astoria.  Not  even 
Washington  Irving  can  beat  furs  into  eloquence.  * 

To  conclude  :  whatever  the  author  of  the  Sketch  Book  has  done,  no- 
body else  could  do  so  well ;  but  it  is  absurd,  and  where  the  exaggera- 
tion comes  from  men  who  should  know  better,  disgraceful,  as  it  is  surely 
prejudicial  to  the  interests  of  true  taste,  to  elevate  David  Teniers  or 
a  Gerard  Duow  into  a  Raphael  or  a  Buonaruoti.  f 

*  The  style  of  this  book,  however,  cannot  be  too  much  commended,  if  you  look 
merely  to  the  arrangement  of  words  and  the  construction  of  sentences.  There  arc 
passages  in  it  which  reminded  me  not  unfrcquently  of  Herodotus.  Those  who 
know  what  Dion,  of  Halicarnassus  says  of  the  Father  of  History,  will  think  this  no 
small  compliment;  and  if  Washington  Irving  himself  knew  how  much  we  Igve 
the  chronicle  of  tiie  nine  muses,  he  would  know,  that  this  article  is  written  by  one  who 
is  not  to  be  held  the  enemy  of  his  fame  because  he  does  not  make  an  idol  of  him. 

t  As  the  head  of  the  Florentine  school  is  known  to  be  the  Dante  of  painting,  and  as 
the  leader  of  the  Roman  may,  with  equal  propriety,  be  termed  the  Virgil  of  the  same 
art,  (I  am  not  sure  but  Mr.  Roscoe  has  termed  him  so  already,)  it  would  scarcely  be 
credited,  out  of  the  U.  States,  that  any  man  of  sense  should  have  been  guilty  of  such 
adulation  towards  Mr.  Irving  as  to  justify  our  parallel;  but  here,  it  must  be  well 
known,  that  not  merely  the  stupid  newspaper-press,  but  even  the  quarterly  reviewers, 
not  content  with  giving  Mr.  Irving  all  the  praise  he  really  merits,  (no  small  allowance,) 
have  invented  for  him  qualifications  which  he  not  only  never  dreamed  of  possessing, 
but  which  would  be  totally  incompatible  with  the  talents  he  really  does  enjoy  (a).  So 
much  is  extravagance  the  character  of  the  age  we  live  in. 

Great  genius  never  stoops  to  the  embellishment  of  trifles  :  it  seizes  only  the  grander 
features  of  nature,  the  stronger  passions  of  humanity.  (We  state  this  as  a  well-known 
fact,  not  as  a  precept.)  He  whose  Titan  spirit  covers  with  a  living  canopy  the  Sistine 
chapel,  and  stands  three  hundred  times  repeated  on  its  populous  walls,  could  not  take 
three  days  to  paint  a  broomstick. 

Note.  There  are  some  honest  persons  who  will  believe  us,  when  we  add,  that  we 
feel  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  tell  Mr.  Irving  to  his  face  what  the  next  century  will  say 
of  him:  but  a  princijjal  object  of  our  work  could  not  be  well  cfTected  without  it.  It 
were  useless  to  clear  the  eye  of  smaller  motes,  if  the  biggest  one  of  all  be  left  behind. 

(a)  Yet  whfit  is  there  remarkable  in  this,  when  Wordswoktii,  the  sonnetteer  and  ballad- 
maker,  whose  fancy  sjjorts  with  butterflies,  and  grows  pathetic  on  the  struggles  of  a  dying 
lamb,  when  prosing,  unmanly  Wordsworth,  has  been  paralleled  with  JIilton  (1),  and  is 
frequently  pronounced,  by  what  is  deemed  ample  authority,  the  greatest  poet  of  his  day  !  a 

(1)  See  Blackwood's  Mag.  for  Aug.,  1822,  (No.  67,)  :  or,  for  that  matter,  see  Wordsworth 
himself,  in  the  most  astonishing  production  (after  the  Letter  on  An.  Magn.,  and  the  Intro- 
duction to  D'IsR AELi's  Tale  of  Alroy)  we  ever  read, —  the  Pref.  to  his  Lyr.  Ballads, —  where 
he  has  laughably  run  a  parallel  between  himself  and  Milton,  —  Milton  !  whose  "natural 
port  is  gisantic  loftiness,"  and  who  leaves  even  Homer  behind  him  in  his  flight  to  Heaven. 


CANTO   THIRD  187 

Away,  away,  I  shot  with  speed  of  light, 
Left  maids  and  mother  in  a  woful  plight : 

Ver.  536.  But  something  novel,  sovitthing  men  may  spell.]  Less  than  the 
truth  ;  for  the  perfect  originality  of  the  whole  paper  (the  "  Visit,  &.C.") 
was  never  surpassed,  save  by  the  unsurpassable,  —  the  Letter  on  An. 
Magnetism. 

However,  the  reader  is  not  to  feel  surprise  at  this  great  man's  com- 
paring himself  with  Mr.  Washington  Irving,  since  he  has  more  recent- 
ly put  himself  on  tiie  same  bench  with  a  name  infinitely  superior,  —  that 
of  the  late  Sir  Walter  Scott  :  — 

"  N.Y.  Comm.  Adv.  Wedn.  Evg.  June\A>,\^Zl . — Authors  and  Editors.  —  We 
should  hold  ourselves  much  indebted  to  any  body,  who  would  give  us  a  clear  and  au- 
thentic explanation  of  what  is  now-a-days  understood  by  the  word  editing.  It  seems 
o  have  accjuired  a  meaning  very  distinct  from  that  which  was  attached  to  it  several 
years  ago,  when  we  picked  up  our  literary  notions,  such  as  they  are  :  "  [Such  as  they 
are,  —  a  favorite  phrase  of  modest  self-depreciation,  which  this  great  man  will  affect,  as 
we  have  seen  in  the  title  of  his  Tales  Sfc.']  "  Then  we  understood  what  was  meant, 
when  we  saw  it  stated  that  the  best  edition  of  Swift  or  Dryden  was  that  edited  by 
Walter  Scott  —  or  that  Captain  Riley's  Narrative  was  edited  by  Anthony  Bleeker  —  or 
Captain  Morreil's  by  our  old  friend  Samuel  Woodworth.  In  the  case  of  Dryden,  tor 
instance,  we  were  enabled  to  comprehend  that  the  task  of  the  editor  consisted  in — " 
&.C.,  "  and  perhaps  in  the  expurgation  of  expressions  that  were  tolerated  in  the  time  of 
Dryden,  but  which  w'ould  prove  ofl'ensive  to  the  more  fastidious  delicacy  of  a  later 
generation,"  etc.  etc.  etc.  "  Of  ediliiig  such  as  this  ive  can  perceive  the  propriety,  and 
the  object,  and  the  usefulness, —  and  we  have  done  some  of  it  in  our  day,  per- 
haps in  cases  of  which  nohodij  entertains  a  suspicion."  [Wonderful  man  !  why  will 
you  keep  your  light  eternally  under  a  bushel  ?  ] 

Let  not  this  self-parallel  with  the  genius  of  Scott  be  deemed  either 
vanity  or  presumption  on  the  part  of  Rubeta,  but  a  noble  confidence, 
which,  setting  a  just  value  on  his  own  merits,  leads  him  thus  to  compare 
himself  only  with  the  greatest.        *  * 

day  which  has  seen  the  energetic  spirit  of  a  Bvron,  the  chastened  elegance  and  close  pol- 
ish of  a  Camtbell,  the  gayety  and  splendor  of  a  Moore,  and  the  chivalrous  fire  of  a  Scott  ! 
The  cause  is  the  same  in  both  cases, — the  reliance  which  is  placed  upon  the  dicta  of  reviews 
and  magazines,  and  the  diversion  of  criticism  from  its  proper  channel  into  empty  declama- 
tion. When  the  day  returns,  as  return  it  must  by  the  mere  revolution  of  fashion,  when 
critics  shall  deem  themselves  obliged  to  give  a  reason  for  their  opinions,  under  penalty  of 
seeing  them  disregarded, —  a  day  when  .Johnson  shall  be  no  more  decried,  and  Longinus 
shall  cease  to  be  forgotten  ;  when  that  day  shall  come,  —  Washincton  Irving  will  assume 
his  proper  stand,  as  the  neatest  and  purest  writer  of  liis  day,  and  William  Wordsworth, 
descending  below  the  lowest  of  the  mighty  names  his  ignorance  and  presumjition  durst  dis- 
honor (2),  take  his  lawful  place,  a  respectable  seat  in  the  fourth  rank  of  British  poets. 

(2)  See  "  Appendix,"  where  the  Author  has  given  a  running  comment  on  Wordsw'ortii's 
Prefaces,  (the  same  comment  which  is  alluded  to  in  the  "  Advertisement.")       ** 


188  THE   VISION    OF   RUBETA. 

I  heard  their  shrill  hysterics,  at  the  gate.  540 

Poor  nymphs  !  your  Chief  was  in  as  sad  a  state  : 
The  fount  of  grief,  discharging  all  its  stores, 
Ran  down  his  leg  and  madefy'd  his  draw'rs. 

Now  when  the  roosters,  horologes  true. 
For  the  third  time  had  struck  their  Doodle-doo,      o45 

Ver.  537.  Once  more,  etc.]  The  beautiful  Elzevir  has  the  line  printed 
thus : — 

Once  more  —  O  virgins  !  —  oh !  —  a  last  —  Fare  . . .  well ! 
a  typographical  refinement  quite  unnecessary,  as  any  reader,  possessed 
of  common  feelings,  would  understand  at  once  that  the  hero's  heart  was 
all  but  breaking,  and  read  of  course  in  a  voice  broken  by  sobs,   rising 
in  the  second  oh  !  to  an  absolute  groan.        *  * 

540. — their  shiill  hysterics — ]  Giraldi  chooses  to  assert,  (see  his 
Dialogues  on  the  Poets,)  that  the  hero  mistook  both  the  cause  and  kind 
of  laughter !  Some  men  will  not  see  the  nose  before  their  face,  till  it  is 
pulled  for  them.         *  * 

642, 643.  The  fount  of  grief,  discharging  all  its  stores,  —  Ran  down  his  leg 
and  mad(fy''d  his  dravu'rsJ]  The  author  of  that  very  ingenious  posthu- 
mous work  on  the  Ancient  Lacrymatories,  (now  out  of  print,)  after  prov- 
ing by  mathcmatic  demonstration,  that  it  would  be  easy  for  any  wo- 
man of  ordinary  moisture  to  rain  at  one  shower,  without  the  assistance 
of  an  onion,  a  sufficient  depth  of  tears  to  fill  half  a  dozen  of  such  reposi- 
tories, brings  forward,  as  a  curious  fact,  the  remarkable  flood  which  hap- 
pened to  the  hero  of  the  Vision  ;  whereupon  his  Editor  has  the  imperti- 
nence to  make  this  dry  remark  :  —  that  if  his  lamented  friend  had  but  set 
down  the  time  the  hero  had  been  in  the  convent,  and  added  the  inordi- 
nate quantity  of  tea  which  he  had  drunk  at  the  refection,  (see  Canto  ii. 
V.  ^5,),  he  would  have  found,  as  the  sum  total,  that  his  grief  was  in  his 
kidneys.        *  * 

544. — roosters — ]  "  Rooster,"  that  which  roosts;  an  American  term 
applied,  par  excellence,  to  the  male  birds  of  the  gallinaceous  order,  but 
especially  to  those  of  the  genus  Gcdlus,  whether  tiie  same  be  the  Ban- 
tam rooster,  or  the  Frizzled  rooster,  or  the  Rumpless  rooster,  or  any 
other  variety  of  roosters.  As  this  is  an  appellative  exclusiveness  injuri- 
ous to  our  sex,  forasmuch  as  the  hen  does  certainly  perform  her  part  in 
roosting  as  well  as  her  husband,  I  would  propose  to  the  Americans  to 
say,  masc.  rooster,  fern,  roostrcss,  as  we  write  ambassador,  ambassadress, 
fornicator,  fornicatress.      However,  nobody    in   America   says    cock. 


CANTO  THIRD.  189 

Aurora,  quitting  old  Tithonus'  bed, 

Doiui'd  her  gray  socks  and  under-garmcnt  red, 

And  (clear'd  the  coals,  with  ashes  cover'd  o'er. 

Which  Phceuus  had  rak'd  up  the  night  before,) 

Kindled  the  fire  which  was  to  last  all  day.  550 

'T  was  5  A.  M.,  as  honest  merchants  say. 

When  from  the  isle  I  took  my  pensive  way. 

Then  Vulcan  and  the  Naiads  lend  a  hand. 
And  set  me  down  where  fareless  Jarvies  stand. 


Therefore  when  you  go  there  be  careful  never  to  use  the  word  before 
females  where  it  can  be  possibly  avoided,  unless  you  would  have  them 
swallow  their  handkerchiefs,  but  say,  Ma'am.,  your  pea-rooster  wonH  let 
me  sleep  ;  This  house  is  much  infested  with  ^roaches ;  Sir,  the  urn  is  next 
you,  1  HI  thank  you  to  turn  the  thi7ig;  etc.  etc.  I  'm  told,  that  a  gentle- 
man who  was  one  day  reading  to  a  party  of  ladies,  at  the  Springs,  Sir 
W.  Scott's  romance  of  the  Fortunes  of  Nigel,  on  coming  to  King 

Jamie's   dish  of  cockyleekie  made  a  full  stop,  and  then  read  it  out  

rooster-leekie,  to  the  high  gratification  of  the  breatidess  party,  and  the 
relief  of  their  circumambient  brothers,  who  had  determined  to  challenge 
him  if  he  durst  pronounce  the  odious  word !  Another  instance  of  this 
remarkable  refinement  is  that  of  a  lady  in  the  country,  who,  expecting 
me  to  dine  with  her,  and  fearing  I  would  say  the  word,  ordered  all  the 
cocks  in  the  farmyard  to  be  whitewashed  and  their  spurs  chopped  off, 
that  I  might  take  them  for  hens :  a  ruse  which,  as  I  am  a  very  intelli- 
gent person,  did  not  succeed ;  and  accordingly  I  cried  out,  the  moment 
I  heard  them  crow,  "  God  bless  me,  madam  !  hear  the  hens  there  ;  they 
are  learning  to  be  cocks  !  "  whereupon  the  lady  fainted  on  the  piazza, 
and  was  borne  into  the  house  insensible ! 

Trolloppe,  De  causis  Corrupt<R  Eloquentice  in  AmericcB  republica, 
(Latin  edition) ;  Chapter,  De  Shirtibus,  et  Cockibus,  et  Buggibus :  p.  63. 

552.  —  isle  —  ]  On  which  the  city  of  Montreal  is  built,  and  from 
which  according  to  Rlbeta,  who  sliould  know  best,  it  derives  its 
name. 

553, 554.  Then  Vulcan  and  the  JVaiads  lend  a  hand,  —  And  set  me  down, 
etc.]  In  place  of  this  couplet,  there  are  found  in  the  anc.  edd.  one  hundred 
and  fifty  lines,  describing  how  Rubeta,  in  pursuance  of  the  Abbess's 


190  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

No  delegation  waited,  as  I  thought,  555 

To  pray  to  feast  me,  as  the  people  ought ; 
(Which  shows  the  town,  now  given  up  to  trading, 
Has  grown  ungrateful :  but  I  scorn  upbraiding  ;) 
So,  stepping  on  the  wharf  without  one  sob, 
I  minc'd  alone  amid  th'  admiring  mob,  560 

Which  shouted,  as  I  wriggled  through  the  press, 
Lord,  what  a  lovely  creatur'' !     Clear  the  mess  ! 
In  the  same  room  where  copy'd  Rent  hung, 
On  the  same  peg,  the  blessed  rod  now  swung. 

advice,  (see  note  to  v.  477,)  touched  at  the  city  which  is  called  Provi- 
dence, in  the  State  of  Rhode  Island  ;  and  how  he  there  had  an  inter- 
view with  the  prophetess,  both  being  (as  appears  from  the  title  of  his 
pamphlet  *  )  "in  a  state  of  somnambulism "  ;  and  how  the  modest  and 
innocent  Lokaina,  being  rubbed  on  the  belly  by  the  great  Capon,  told 
him  to  seek  another  prophetess,  residing  in  the  gloomy  quarter  of  the 
Five  Points  in  the  mighty  city  of  Manhattan  ;  and  how  the  hero 
steamed  it  to  Manhattan  ;  and  how  he  saw  the  temple  of  the  priestess 
of  the  Five  Points,  with  many  things  remarkable  therein ;  and  how  he 
told  the  priestess  who  he  was,  and  what  he  came  for ;  and  how  the 
swarthy  priestess  thereupon  took  a  pack  of  cards,  and,  in  the  most  won- 
derful manner,  showed  him  how  she  knew  every  thing  about  him,  and 
what  was  the  object  of  liis  visit !  and  how,  after  many  mystic  rites,  she 
gave  the  oracular  response,  J\l'ot  to  visit  Uruno's  house  until  he  should  go 
there :  the  neglect  of  which  advice  produces  the  catastrophe  that  fol- 
lows. *  * 

655,  556.  «Yo  delegation  waited  —  To  pray  to  feast  me  —  ]  According 
to  a  classical  usage  most  duly  honored,  like  every  thing  classical,  by 
the  classical  citizens  of  our  classical  republic.  Vide  Plact.  Ainphit.  i. 
Sc.  1.  annot.  in  lin.  8.  [ed.  Gronov.  Amstel.  1684.) 

563.  In  the  same  room  ivhere  copy'd  Meni  hungJ]  See  (can  we  ever 
quote  it  too  often  ?)  the  divine  Letter  on  An.  Magn.,  p.  43,  which  shows 

*  "  Letter  to  Dr.  A.  Brighain,  on  An.  Magn. :  being  an  account  of  a  remarkable 
interview  between  the  author  and  Miss  Loraina  Brackett  while  in  a  state  of  somnam- 
bulism."       *  * 


CANTO   THIRD.  191 

Untoucli'd  it  shone,  in  Copal  lustre  drest,  5G5 

Bright  as  the  wreath  which  props  my  father's  crest, 


us  how  the  little  "  don  "  in  Church-street  was  hung  with  various  pictures, 
and  how  the  tender-hearted  "  dairvoijayite  "  wept  bitterly  at  beliolding 
"  an  admirable  copy  of  tlie  Ecce  Homo,  by  Guido,"  and  how  she  told  all 
about  the  pictures,  having  been  previously  primed  by  the  great  CvroN, 
who,  as  it  appears  from  p.  41  of  the  same  Letter,  had  been  told  about 
these  pictures  by  the  hero  himself  a  few  days  before.  All  of  which,  is 
it  not  "  miraculous  "  ?  and  is  it  not  written  down  in  the  Letter  aforesaid, 
which  may  be  had  of  all  the  sons  of  Wynkyn,  for  the  small  gratuity  of 
twenty-five  cents  ?         *  * 

564.  —  the  blessed  rod  —  ]  An  expression  by  no  means  to  be  laugh- 
ed at ;  for  a  man  of  Rubeta's  transcendent  faculties  may  see  a  mira- 
cle in  a  broomstick,  and  find  astounding  what  ordinary  people  regard  as 
child's  play,  or  farcical  imposture  :  thus,  in  his  paper  of  Sept.  4,  1837, 
in  which  he  announced  to  the  awe-struck  world  the  prodigious  discovery 
of  the  omnipotence  and  absolute  immateriality  of  the  human  faculties, 
he  says : 

"  We  have  had  our  time  and  times  of  laughing  at  animal  magnetism.  We  shall 
laugh  at  it  no  inore.    There   is   something   awfully   mysterious   in   the 

PRINCIPLE,  BEYOND  THE  POWER    OF    MAN    TO    FATHOM    OR    EXPLAIN.      Being   in 

Providence  on  Saturday,  Sunday,  and  Monday,  the  2Gth,27th,  and  28th  of  August,  an 
opportunity  was  offered  us  of  seeing  and  taking  part  in  a  series  of  e.xperimcnts  with  a 
young  blind  lady,  while  under  the  magnetic  influence,  the  results  of  which  ivere  not 
only  nuiT-vellous  in  our  eyes,  but  absolutely  astounding." 

Truly  may  this  great  man,  having,  as  we  have  seen,  compared  himself 
to  Hamlet,  Avhose  "brains  were  zigzag,"  now  parallel  himself  without 
ofience  to  modesty  with  an  African  witch,  where,  at  the  close  of  the 
article  from  which  we  have  quoted  above,  he  observes: 

"  In  regard  to  our  narration,  it  is  alike  wonderful  and  inexplicable.  As  Paulding's 
black  witch  in  Koningsmarke  says  —  'I  'vE  seen  what  I 've  seen  —  I  know 

WHAT  I  KNOW.'  "  ** 

566.  — my  father^s  crest,]  "Those  seals"  (the  "seven  seals"  with 
which  he  sealed  up  the  "  Eggs  of  Charity ")  "  were  strong  and  deep 
impressions  of  my  family  crest,  ivith  the  motto  distinctly  shown."  Lett, 
on  An.  Magn.  p.  54.  —  Ill-nature  and  envy  has  induced  some  critics  to 
assert,  that  this  very  Letter  was  published  for  the  express  purpose  of 
letting  people  know  that  the  author  had  pictures  in  his  house,  and  a 
crest  upon  his  seal !  What  this  crest  was,  (or  if  it  were  a  crest  at  all,) 
has  been  much  disputed,  the  more  general  opinion  inclining  to  make  it 
the  same  which  belongs  to  tlie  shield  mentioned  in  Canto  iv.  (v.  472) ; 


192  THE    VISION   OF   RUIJETA. 

Till,  on  this  eve,  at  Cato's  warning  call, 

I  snatch'd  the  heirloom  from  the  pictur'd  wall, 

while  others  insist  upon  it,  that  this  latter  is  hut  pure  invention,  and  that 
the  crest  really  belongs  to  his  own  well-earned  achievement. 

As  it  may  gratify  the  two  hundred  and  seventy  thousand  adorers  of 
this  magnificent  personage,  we  inform  them  that,  after  very  great  re- 
search, having  expedited  at  our  own  proper  charges  a  messenger  to  the 
island  of  Java,  we  have  discovered  the  original  patent  (with  the  subse- 
quent grants)  of  the  arms  of  Rubeta,  which  translated,  as  nearly  as 
possible,  into  the  language  of  English  heralds,  is  as  follows : 

To  all  and  singular,  nobles,  as  well  as  private  persons,  to  whom  these  presents 
shall  come,  Ham-Ham-Funk,  otherwise  Javan,  King  of  Arms  of  all  that  part  of 
the  large  and  mighty  kingdom  of  Bantam  which  lieth  between  the  three  rivers, 
scndeth  greeting.  For  as  much  as  from  time  immemorial,  when  the  Sun  was  first 
created,  and  the  Moon  gave  her  light  to  beautify  and  render  fruitful  the  ladies  of 
the  harem,  whose  eyes  are  like  her  own,  the  honorable  deeds,  and  true  glory  of 
excellent  persons,  have  been  celebrated,  and  handed  down  to  the  veneration  of 
posterity,  by  suitable  monuments,  whether  the  same  have  been  deserved  by  valor 
or  wisdom  or  exalted  virtue,  and  among  these  monuments  the  chief  has  been  the 
bearing  of  certain  tokens  in  shields,  vulgarly  called  arms,  etc.  etc.,  and  being  re- 
quired of  RUBETA,  of  the  island  of  Manhattan,  Colonel,  Orator,  &c.  &c.,  and 
Defender  of  Virgins,  to  make  search,  in  the  registers  and  records  of  my  office, 
what  arms  he  the  said  Rubeta  might  bear  without  prejudice  to  any  other  person, 
and  considering  that  the  said  Rubeta,  Colonel,  &c.  &c.,  and  Defender  of  Virgins, 
did,  [Here  follow  the  heads  of  his  illustrious  actions  in  the  C07ivent,]  and  moreover 
that  the  said  Rubeta,  Col.,  &c.  and  Defender  of  Virgins,  is  [Here,  the  setting 
forth  of  his  right  to  royal  honors']  &c.  &c.,  I,  the  said  Javari,  King  of  Arms,  by 
virtue  of  the  power  confided  to  me  by  letters  patent  under  the  Great  Seal  of  Ban- 
tam, do  assign  unto  him  and  his  posterity,  to  the  end  of  the  Moon,  the  full  achieve- 
ment of  a  royal  personage,  to  wit :  Saturn,  an  ass  statant  with  a  human  face  hooded 
and  winged  Luna,  urinating  Sol ;  and  in  a  chief  Luna  a  man  potel^,  habited  in  a 
7iun's  simar  Saturn  close-girt  with  «  woman's  garters  of  the  third,  sitting  on  a  close- 
stool  Jupiter,  his  left  erje  guttij  Dragon's  Tail,  holding  in.  his  left  hand  a  broomstick 
proper  and  in  his  right  extended  a  mousetrap  of  the  first.  For  Crest :  An  ass  sali- 
ant  on  a  malule  *  Jupiter,  surmounted  of  a  crown  Sol,  holding  in  his  mouth  Mars 
a  pamphlet  of  the  second.  For  Supporters  :  Tico  asses  gardant  and  matuled  Jupiter, 
gorged  with  a  collar  Sol,  having  a  chain  of  turnips  affixed  proper  refecting  over  the 
back  and  passing  over  the  hinder  quarters,  both  standing  on  a  scroll  inscril)ed  with  this 
Motto  (He  turn'd  him  to  the  wall  and  quenched  the  flame)  from  which  issue  the  two 
royal  badges  of  the  hero's  chief  names,  to  wit  :  07i  the  dexter  side  a  Sweet-  IVilliam, 
stalked  and  leaved  proper,  and  on  the  sinister  side  a  Pebble  Sol.  In  witness  where- 
of, &c.  HAM-iL\M-FUNK,  Javan, 

King  of  Arms. 

*  I  know  not  what  this  can  be,  unless  it  be  a  term  derived  from  matula,  and  relating  to 
the  utensil  wherewith  the  hero  is  honorably  crowned  in  the  procession.  Matulc,  and 
matuled,  arc  therefore  new  terms,  like  poteli,  added  to  the  noble  jargon  of  heraldry  by  the 
progressive  march  of  science.        *  * 


CANTO  THIRD.  U»3 

And  rush'd  where  Bruno  hatch'd  his  nightly  twaddle, 
Fix'd  to  destroy  or  turn  his  eggs  all  addle.  570 

However  properly  a  royal  achievement  might  belong  to  the  hero, 
(not  from  the  temporal  elevation  to  which  his  peers  had  raised  him  on 
the  night  celebrated  by  the  Poet,  but  by  reason  of  the  perpetual  honors 
conferred  upon  him  in  that  vision  which  forms  the  august  subject  of 
this  solemn  Poem  and  the  glory  of  the  7th  Canto,)  his  modesty  induced 
him  to  decline  it.  Whereupon,  application  was  made  to  the  Fountain 
of  Honor  itself,  the  Majesty  of  Bantam  :  and  the  choice  was  given  the 
hero,  through  the  principal  herald,  of  tlie  tAvo  coats  which  follow,  both 
being  Arms  of  Concession^ 

1.  Emerald  a  corps  de  jupe,  garni  de  baleine  et  rembourri,  erected  pearl,  holding 
in  each  bosom-piece  a  globous  pebble  diamond,  the  entire  tipper  hemisphere  whereof  is 
Seen  naissant,  and  having  paleways  in  the  busk  the  Roman  letters  VV.  L.  S.  ruby  : 
in  a  chief  parted  per  pale,  sapphire  an  ass  rampant  double-headed  topaz  urinating  of 
the  second,  and  diamond  a  parroquet  close  of  the  sixth  respecting  a  newspaper 
proper.  The  Crest,  Supporters,  and  Scroll,  the  same  as  in  the  royal  achievement, 
allowing  for  the  difference  of  blazon,  and  omitting,  in  the  Crest,  the  crown. 

2.  Quarterly :  the  first,  argent  an  ass  statant-gardant  with  a  human  face  hooded 
and  winged  azare,  tirinating  vert;  the  second,  or,  on  a  cross  foivei-y  gnles.  beticeen 
four  mice  saliant  sable,  a  mousetrap  proper ;  the  third,  or,  on  a  fess  sable,  between 
three  parroquets  vert,  an  ass's  head  argent  erased  or,  and  bearing  in  his  mouth  of  the 
same  a  pamphlet  proper,  between  two  toads  seiant  or  ;  the  fourth,  argent,  a  man  poteli 
in  a  nun's  simar  sable,  close-girt  with  a  woman's  garters  or,  sittitig  on  a  close-stool 
azure,  his  lefl  eye  gutty  de  sang,  his  head  surmounted  of  a  matule  of  the  fourth,  holding 
in  his  left  hand  a  broomstick  proper,  and  in  his  right  extended  a  mousetrap  of  the 
second.  The  whole  within  a  bordure  quarterly  argent  anrf  or,  charged  with  mice  and 
toads  alternate,  represented  and  tincted  as  in  the  escutcheon.  The  Crest  as  above,  and 
the  Scroll  thus  inscribed :  Psiltacus,  mures,  rana,  asinus,  matula,  en  mea  signa  '. 
This  Coat  being  marshalled  not  for  alliances  or  fiefs,  but  to  denote  the  different 
illustrious  actions  of  the  hero,  according  to  a  custom  at  Surinam  and  Bantam, 
particularly  honored  by  the  female  guard  of  his  Batavian  Majesty. 

Accordingly,  the  first,  as  being  blazoned  by  precious  stones,*  his 
modesty  persuading  him  to  reject  as  unbecoming  a  republican,  the  hero 
was  graciously  pleased  to  accept  of  the  second,  which,  consequently, 
we  have  caused  to  be  depicted  in  a  Frontispiece :  and  it  is  our  opinion, 
that  the  "  crest"  of  the  "  seven  seals"  was  seen  as  is  there  represented. 


Aofe.  The  armorist  to  Avhose  care  we  owe  the  English  blazon  of  these 

*  Blazoning  hy  planets  and  by  precious  stones,  the  former  in  the  arms  of  sovereign 
princes  and  the  like,  the  latter  in  those  of  noblemen,  is  a  whim  of  the  English  heralds 
exclusively,  which  is  worth  noting,  as  showing  the  deference  to  rank  in  England, 
where  the  grades  in  society  are  more  distinctly  marked,  and  maintained  with  greater 
jealousy,  than  in  any  other  country  that  I  know  of.        *  '" 

25 


194  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

It  chanc'd  the  door-catch  stood  unsprung  that  night, 
And  the  hall-lantern  burn'd  with  sickly  light. 
Softly  I  enter'd,  pois'd  on  sloping  toe, 
And  listen'd  at  the  keyhole ;   (right,  you  know, 
To  reconnoitre  all  your  foe's  defences  575 

Ere  your  ramm'd  cannon  blaze  upon  his  trenches.) 
There  came  a  sound  like  yelping  from  within, 
And  Bruno's  bark  rose  hoarse  above  the  din, 


Oriental  coats-of-arms,  supplies  us  with  the  following  remark  from 
PoRNY.  {Elcm.  Her.  p,  134.)  "  Tlie  ass,  which  is  the  lively  emblem  of 
Patience,  is  not  without  some  good  qualities,  for,  of  all  animals  that  are 
covered  with  hair,  he  is  least  subject  to  vermin,  &c."  This,  in  ordinary 
cases,  were  well  enough ;  but  our  correspondent  seems  to  have  been 
unaware  of  the  circumstances,  so  well  known  to  our  readers,  from  which 
the  illustrious  personage,  whose  arms  are  here  blazoned,  derives  this 
bearing.  The  same  hand  adds  the  following  emblematic  significations 
of  the  tinctures  in  No.  2.  First  quarter:  ,irgent,  or  white,  "consisteth 
of  very  much  light,  and  is  laudable,  for  that  it  is  tlie  messenger  of 
Tpea.ce,  and  releever  of  the  distressed.  *  *  *  In  morall  vertues  it  signifieth 
Virginity,  clear  Conscience,  and  Chanty ;  *  *  *  with  Blue  [azure),  cour- 
teous and  discreet ;  *  *  *  with  Green  [vert),  vertuous  in  youth,  to  the 
continuance  thereof ^  Second  quarter:  Or,  or  Gold,  "of  itself  betoken- 
eth  wisdom,  riches,  and  elevation  of  mind ;  witli  Red  [gules),  to  spend 
his  hloud  [as  a  Colonel]  for  the  riches  and  well  fare  of  his  Countrty ; 
*  *  *  witii  Sable,  most  rich  and  constant  in  every  thijig,  with  an 
AMOROUS  MIND."  Third  quarter:  Sable  signifies,  "with  Argent, 
famous  or  renoivned ;  with  Gold,  Honour  ivith  long  life."  Fourth  quar- 
ter :  Azure,  "  of  itself  signifieth  divine  contemplation  *  *  *  godliness  of 
conversation ;  with  Argent,  vigilant  in  sei-vicc :   *  *  it  is  attributed  to 

CELESTIAL     PERSONS,     WHOSE     CONTEMPLATIONS      HAVE      BEEN      ABOUT 

DIVINE  THINGS,  jvhich  tvus  the  cause  it  was  so  much  used  about  the  gar- 
ments of  the  High  Pn'es/s."  Sylv.  Morgan's  Sphere  of  Gentry,  Lib.  i. 
pp.  3,  4.         *  * 

571.  It  chanced,  etc.]  Here  Rubeta,  returning  from  his  episode, 
takes  up  the  thread  of  his  apologetic  story  of  disaster,  where  he  had 
left  it  in  Canto  i.  at  v.  312.         *  * 


CANTU   THIRD  195 

And  then  my  name,  which  must  have  follow'd  Dunce  ! 
I  heard  no  more,  but  on  the  pack  at  once  580 

Pour'd  in.     What  's  this  (I  cry'd)  ye  do  ? 
Maria  Monk  !  and  Fanny  Partridge  too ! 

Outstepp'd  the  flamen  :  —  Com'st  thou  here  to  try 
Which  of  the  two  be  stouter,  thou  or  I  ?  — 
So  fierce  his  tone,  he  made  such  ugly  faces,  585 

God  help  me !  that  I  sprung  back  seven  paces. 

Bruno,  —  I  said,  —  I  come  not  here  to  try 
Which  of  the  two  be  stouter,  thou  or  I. 
Fresh  am  I  from  the  vaults  of  Hotel  Dieu. 
This  magic  wand  (nay,  have  it  well  in  view ;         59o 
'T  is  the  same  staff  of  which  my  paper  speaks) 
Essay'd  them  all,  with  divers  other  freaks. 
Now,  if  yon  Partridge  be  a  bird  of  honor, 
She  '11  suffer  me  to  try  my  stick  upon  her. 

Therewith,  to  sound  the  vestal's  situation,  595 

I  tapp'd  the  seat  of  dropsies  and  gestation  : 
When,  strange  to  say !  fierce  Bruno,  in  a  passion. 
Struck  down  the  staff  in  most  uncivil  fashion. 

Inkling  of  Horror !  not  such  thrill  vvas  thine. 
When  rush'd  the  tom-cat  down  the  flue  to  dine ;    60o 


Ver.  599, 600.  Inkling  of  Horror !  not  such  thrill  was  thine — Whe7i  rushed  the 
tom-cat  down  thefiue  to  dine  ;  ]  See  the  marvellous  story  of  an  anthro- 
pophagite Grimalkin,  which,  to  the  imminent  petrification  of  a  young 
gentleman,  rushed  down  a  chimney,  upset  the  fireboard,  and,  leaping  on 
a  bed,  was  about  to  make  cat's-meat  of  a  dead  body  which  the  youth  was 
watching;  as  may  be  read,  under  the  title  of  a  Tale  of  Horror  (if  our 


196  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Not  such,  mad  Julian,  quivcr'd  through  thy  breast, 
When  Marg'ret's  lips  thy  pale  cold  forehead  prest. 
I  would  have  fell'd  him;   but  the  man  look'd  big; 
And  his  eyes  flash'd  blue  lightning  through  his  wig ; 
And  was  he  not  a  priest? —    1  paus'd  no  more,      605 
Gather'd  my  stick,  and  headlong  sought  the  door. 
Then  rush'd  the  vixen  Monk,  then  Partridge  rush'd, 
Priest  elbow'd  priest,  and  brother  brother  push'd ; 
And  Fool!  and  Blockhead!  rattled  in  a  show'r; 
And  Bruno's  jaws  stood  open  to  devour.  6io 

I  must  have  dy'd ;   but  Heav'n  sent  up  the  cook, 
Or  some  kind  deity  her  likeness  took, 
Who  by  the  neckcloth  drew  me  from  their  rage, 

memory  does  not  trick  us,)  in  that  marvellous  production  called  Inklings 
of  Adventure,  by  N.  P.  Willis,  Esq. 

If  the  above  should  offend  the  eye  of  Mr.  Willis,  he  will  find  an  excellent  collyr- 
ium  in  the  subsequent  Canto,  where  his  real  merits  are  properly  distinguished.  Mr- 
Willis  is  a  tolerable  poet ;  but  his  poetry  makes  child's  work  of  his  prose.        ** 

Ver.  CO],  60i,  JVot  such,  mad  Julian,  quive7-\I  through  thy  breast —  When 
Maso'ret's  lips  thy  pale  cold  forehead  prest.]  See  the  account  of  that 
prodigious  kiss,  which  had  the  effect  of  stirring  up  sensation  in  the  cere- 
bellum of  a  man  who  was  sitting  torpid  as  a  tortoise  in  winter,  and  stupid 
as  any  Stone,  somewhere  in  the  second  volume  of  the  Confessions  of  a 
Poet,  —  a  defunct  infant,  which,  like  many  others,  should  never  have 
been  born,  and  whose  obituary  notice  will  be  found  in  Canto  7. 

608.  —  brother  —  ]  The  affectionate  term  of  address  between  such 
extra-pious  people  as  formed  the  congregation  at  Bruno's  on  this  mem- 
orable evening.        *  * 

612.  Or  some  kind  deity  her  likeness  took,]  The  penetration  of  this 
acutest  of  men  thus  hit  upon  a  fact  which  the  kindness  of  the  Muse  alone 
has  discovered  to  us  ;  for  tliis  seeming  cook  was  indeed  none  other  than 
the  goddess  Caution,  whom  we  have  seen,  in  Canto  1st,  set  out  for  the 
very  purpose  of  subtracting  the  hero  from  the  perils  which  the  Fates, 
through  his  own  noble  temerity,  hung  over  him.        *  * 


CANTO   THIRD.  197 

Dragg'd  through  the  hall,  and  open  set  the  cage, 
Then  kicking  me,  releas'd  my  torn  cravat,  ci5 

And  sent  me  down  the  steps  without  a  hat. 

Onward  I  sped,  thank'd  Heav'n  for  my  relief, 
Nor  minded  that  the  people  shouted  Thief! 
For  still  methought  the  vixens  were  behind, 
I  heard  their  Blockhead  !  screaming  on  the  wind,  G2o 
Nor  stopp'd,  till  spent  I  reach'd  my  own  back-door, 
And  saw  my  darling  cane  lock'd  up  once  more. 
So  when  the  animal  that  lives  in  sties 
From  boys  and  curs  along  the  kennel  flies  ; 
They  follow  not ;  yet  still  he  runs  and  squeals,      G25 
Fancies  the  chase,  and  feels  them  at  his  heels. 

In  short,  I  cool'd ;  then  hither  pressed  my  tread, 
Boldly  reflecting :  —  What  hath  man  to  dread 
Who  travails  righteously  in  his  vocation  ?  — 
Here  ends  my  exegetical  narration.  630 


Ver.617.  —  thank'' d  He av'n  for  my  relief,]  Not  even  in  the  precipitation 
of  his  flight  does  the  new  ^Eneas  forget  his  piety  !  Who  can  wonder 
at  the  temporal  prosperity  and  moral  greatness  of  a  man  so  constituted ! 

»* 

6-21.  — my  own  back-door,]  It  will  be  remembered,  that  "  tlie  house  " 
which  RuBETA  deigns  to  dwell  in  "  is  very  peculiar  in  its  construction," 
like  the  occupant's  immortal  mind,  "  having  no  door  upon  the  street,"  as 
the  hero's  brains  have  no  communication  with  outer  objects  by  the  front 
way,  like  the  thinking  organs  of  other  people.         *  * 

628,  629.  Boldly  refecting: —  What  hath  man  to  dread —  Jfho  travails 
righteously  in  his  vocation^]  The  same  chivalrous  spirit  with  which, 
in  the  Letter,  after  discovering,  by  "magnetic  clairvoyance,''^  that  he 
Avas  "  setting  himself  up  as  a  target,  at  which  scores  of  witlings  and 
brisk  fools  would  be  sure  to  let  fly  successive  showers  of  arrows,"  this 


198  THE   VISION   OF   HUBETA. 

The  monarch  paus'd,  and  spitting  from  the  height, 
His  slumbering  people  woke  in  pure  affright. 

As  when  a  fire-engine  's  ceas'd  to  spirt, 
The  shouting  rabble  wheel  it  through  the  dirt, 
Stretch    the    plj'd  cord,  and,   as    they    move,    un- 
wind ;  635 
A  swarm  of  little  blackguards  buzz  behind : 
So  mov'd  their  chief  the  mob,  his  spouting  o'er. 
Dragging  him  with  them  ere  he  touch'd  the  floor. 

brave  soldier  and  poetical  colonel  adds :  "  Well  —  be  it  so.  However 
well  stored  may  be  their  quivers,  and  however  thick  and  fast  their  mis- 
siles may  hurtle  through  the  air,  I  should  feel  myself  but  a  sorry  knight 
of  the  quill,  to  complain  at  receiving  back  a  small  portion  of  the  change 
of  which  I  have  dispensed  so  much,  though  I  should  be  pierced  like  an- 
other St.  Sebastian."  (p,  54.)  In  citing  which,  let  us,  by  the  way,  call 
the  reader  to  admire  the  felicity  with  which  the  judicious  and  elegant 
writer  unites,  in  one  image,  the  office  of  a  shopkeeper  dealing  with  a  de- 
preciated currency,  and  the  gallantry  of  a  knight-errant  contending  with 
a  host  of  foes,  nay  !  (let  us  say  it  reverently),  the  fortitude  of  a  Christian 
martyr  suffering  for  his  faith,  (for  such  is  the  saintly  hero's  own  parallel 
between  the  miracles  of  revelation  and  "  the  admitted  existence  of  the 
magnetic  influence."     See  sub-note  to  v.  254,  255.)         *  * 

630.  —  exegetical  —  ]  Probably  a  favorite  word  with  the  speaker, 
whom  we  have  already  shown  to  be  a  famous  Greek  scholar,  as  he  is 
said  to  be  versed  in  all  the  modern  languages,  including  Cherokee.  The 
introductory  letter  to  "  Tales  and  Sketches,  —  Such  as  they  are,"  is 
pellucidly  entitled  "  Exegetical  Epistle."         *  * 

633,  634.  Jls  ivhen  a  fire-engine  —  etc.]     A  resumption,  as  it  were,  of 
the  comparison  in  Canto  i.,  where  the  monarch,  about  to  eject  his  narra- 
tive, is  likened  to  the  same  machine  preparing  to  shed  its  water :  — 
"  Thus,  when  an  engine  is  prepar'd  to  spout 
Wliose  jotting  stream  puts  conflagrations  out, 
First  all  is  tumult  with  th'  encircling  crowd, 
And  boys  delighted  shout  their  rapture  loud  ; 
Hush'd  is  the  din,  in  mute  expectance  laid. 
When  the  pipe  's  pointed  and  the  arms  are  sway'd." 

V.  237-242.  ** 


CANTO  THIRD.  199 

Midway  the  den  a  pineboard  table  stood, 
Dropt    with    stale     beer,    with    crumbs    and    ashes 
strew'd,  C40 

(The  relics  of  some  former  party  these,) 
Sweet-smelling,  too,  of  fish  ;)nd  fragrant  cheese. 
Hither  they  whirl'd  the  king  with  trampling  tread, 
And,  yelling,  whistling,  set  him  at  the  head. 


Ver.  639.  — den — ]  Quite  in  a  different  sense  from  what  Rubeta 
employs  it  in,  Servius  says,  fancifully,  "  den,  as  being  the  temporary 
habitation  of  alien  {the  King  of  beasts)."        *  * 

640  -  6i-2.  Dropt  ivith  stale  beer,  etc.]  It  is  remarked,  by  some  one,  as 
very  improbable,  that  the  floor  should  have  been  newly  sanded  for  the 
meeting,  (as  appears  from  Canto  i,  —  The  sand  fresh-sprinkled  on  the 
floor  that  nisht,  —  v.  65,)  yet  the  table  left  uncleansed.  The  critic  failed 
to  consider  that  this  remissness,  on  the  part  of  the  housewench,  was,  as 
is  usual  in  such  cases,  undoubtedly  warranted  by  her  knowledge  of  the 
folk  she  had  to  do  for,  as  she  would  have  expressed  it;  for  nothing  is 
more  distinctive  of  the  character  of  the  party  here  assembled,  tlmn  their 
noble  disregard  of  essentials,  and  their  particularity  in  trifles:  provided 
the  complexion  of  the  floor  looked  renovated,  what  to  them  the  nastiness 
of  the  table  they  were  to  occupy  !  as,  in  their  journals,  if  the  sheet  be 
daily  sprinkled  with  a  fresh  assortment  of  advertisements,  what  is  it  to 
the  matter  that,  fixed  in  the  centre,  stands  the  same  old  Sa  I  us  populi,  the 
same  Unfortunate'' s  Friend  !  *  their  filthy  odor,  their  uncomely  aspect, 
their  gross  unwholesomeness,  are  trifles  quite  unworthy  of  "  all  journal- 
ists truly  and  seriously  impressed  with"  what  Petronius  calls  f  "the 
dignity  of  their  vocation,  and  with  a  due  appreciation  of  the  inestimable 
value  of"  $30  per  annum.         *  * 


*  Certain  medical  notices,  for  whicfi  we  have  no  parallel  in  our  journals.  They 
are,  or  were,  both  especial  ornaments  in  the  advertising  columns  of  the  N.  Y.  Am., 
where  the  first  is  still  conspicuous,  with  a  reference  from  the  Doctor  in  large  letters, 
in  another  part  of  the  paper,  to  see  his  advertisement  on  the  last  page.  Cork. 

t  N.  Y.  Am.  Dec.  4,  1837.        *  * 


200  THE   VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

DuLNESS,  who  'd  staj'd  to  hear  her  son  relate        645 

The  toils  he  'd  suffer'd  to  exalt  her  state, 

Imprinted  on  his  lips  one  soft  caress, 

Then  sought  her  darling  sheets  on  Harper's  press. 

But,  ere  she  went,  her  influence,  never  lost. 

She  breath'd  anew  o'er  all  the  cackline,-  host.  050 

Meanwhile,  the  hero,  rising  in  his  chair, 
Knock'd  on  the  greasy  board,  and  call'd  to  praj'r. 
Then  rose  a  universal  hubbub  round. 
Here  Gerro  groan'd;  there  PuPAScrap'd  the  ground. 
The  tripod  stool  dull  x4dam's  proxy  rides,  655 

Crows  like  a  cock,  and  claps  his  greasy  sides ; 


Ver.  645.  DuLNEsa,  who  V  stai/d  —  etc.]  In  the  sliape  of  a  great  blue  fly. 
(Canto  i.  v.  187.) 

"  But,  icaitingfor  her  child,  from  head  to  head, 
Buzz'd  the  blue  fly,  and  swallow'd  all  they  said,"  &.c.     *  * 

648.  Then  sought  her  darling  sheets  on  HAnnse's  press.]  Messrs.  Har- 
per Sf  Brothers  are  publishers,  in  New  York,  who  print  all  sorts  of 
trash,  and  in  the  vilest  manner  possible,  and  thereby  eminently  merit 
the  epithet  which  the  Manhattanese  journals  bestow  upon  them,  of  "en- 
terprisingy         *  * 

632.  — and  caWd  to  pi-ay'' r.]  This,  of  course,  we  siiall  not  go  out  of 
our  way,  as  is  too  customary  with  annotators,  to  ascribe  to  any  other 
motive  than  true  piety,  which  is  Rueeta's  distinguishing  and  constant 
characteristic  ;  yet  we  cannot  but  remark,  how  well  the  wish  to  open  the 
proceedings  with  prayer  becomes  a  man  whose  entire  course  of  literary 
exertion  has  shown  him  to  be  deeply  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  mighty 
dead,  from  whose  works  he  drew  the  purity  which  is  so  fragrant  in  his 
writings,  and  the  eloquence  Avhich  is  so  brilliant  in  his  oratory.  Cato 
could  not  speak  till  he  had  prefaced  his  address  with  prayer,  and  crown- 
ed Latinus  calls  upon  the  gods  before  he  gives  the  opinion  of  the  throne : 
"  Prsefatus  Divos  solio  rex  intit  ab  alto."  (.-En.  xi.  301.)  *  * 

655. — didl  Adam's  proxy  —  ]  Coprones,  the  representative,  as  we 
have  seen,  of  Margites,  whose  baptismal  name  is  Adam.        *  * 


CANTO   TlilRD.  201 

While  roar'd  one  rebel,  springing  on  a  bench, — 

0  damn  your  sermons  !  let  us  have  a  drench ! 
With  horror  heard  the  chief,  but  gave  not  o'er. 

Those    reasons    urge,    and    tears    the    wretch    who 
swore.  660 

1  not  deny  (he  said)  your  thirst ;  but  still 
Let  Heav'in  be  call'd  to  sanctify  the  swill. 
No  synod  should  be  held  without  such  grace ; 
Nor  shall  the  present,  while  I  hold  this  place  ! 

So  when  the  coach  from  Rennes  to  Fontenay  G65 
At  midnight  stops  to  buckle  the  relay, 
The  stiff-neck'd  team,  led  out  against  their  will, 
Think  on  their  absent  mares,  and  whinny  shrill; 
While  sacres  Jean,  and  pestes  their  Flemish  rumps. 
Alternating  his  oaths  with  kicks  and  thumps.  670 

Up  starts  the  traveller  from  brief  repose. 
His  casquette  brushing  on  his  neighbour's  nose, 
Who  wakes  :  "  My  stars  !  Eh  !    what  's  the  matter 

.      there  ?  " 
God's    name  !  —  growls  Jean  :  —  Stand    still,  you 
cursed  bear  ! 

Ver.  660.  —  and  tears  the  tvretch  tvho  swore.]  Beautiful  meekness,  forgiv- 
ing charity,  and  pious  pity,  in  Rubeta,  are  all  evinced  in  this  one  hemi- 
stich. Words  of  reason  he  has  for  the  rest,  but  for  the  profane  sinner 
only  tears.  He  resents  not  his  insolence,  he  reproves  not  his  rebellion, 
he  does  not  even  check  him  for  his  oath  ;  —  he  weeps  !  O  son  of  Ve- 
nus and  progenitor  of  C^sar  !  "  hide  thy  diminished  front!  "         *  * 

67J.  — casqiittte  —  ]  French  travelling-cap.        ** 

674.  God's  name  !  —  ]  Au  nam  de  Dieu !  The  usual  oath  with  which, 
26 


202  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA 

But,  much  less  happy  than  the  man  of  boots,     675 
111  might  the  newsman  harness  in  his  brutes. 
And  now  dire  waste  of  bawdry  had  befel. 
Had  not  bold  Scurra  rose  and  jerk'd  the  bell. 
Silence  !  —  he  cry'd  ;  —  and  thou,  dread  chief,  whose 

croak  — 
(The  door  let  in  the  barmaid  as  he  spoke)  —         C80 
Kept  us,  while  thrice  the  cuckoo  call'd,  asleep. 
We  love  thy  wit,  and  joy  to  see  thee  weep  ; 
But  bottle  up  the  pray'r,  to  grace  thy  books. 
What,  man  !   we  're  not  thy  gulls,  but  brother-rooks. 


in  France,  the  postilions,  and  sometimes  people  a  degree  or  two  above 
them,  usher  in  a  long  string  of  curses,  usually  ending  with  the  three 
elegant  exclamations  dilated  upon  by  Sterne.         *  * 

678.  —  the  man  of  hoots,"]  The  conductor  and  the  postilions  of  a 
French  diligence  stand  each  in  a  pair  of  leg-pieces  of  such  ample  pro- 
portions, that  they  are  usually  stuffed  with  straw  to  help  his  calves, 
while  in  height  they  make  about  one  half  of  the  entire  man.  With  his 
blue  frock  tucked  over  his  arm,  as  he  sometimes  plods  along  the  high- 
way by  the  side  of  his  animals,  the  man  in  boots  looks  beautifully  like 
the  picture  of  the  cat  in  the  fable.         *  * 

678.  — ScuRSd  —  ]  Supposed,  by  the  majority  of  commentators,  to  be 
the  same  witli  the  rebellious  man  of  oaths.         *  * 

631. — ivhiie  thrice  the  cuckoo  caWd — ]  The  parlor,  it  appears  from 
Canto  i.  v.  64,  was  furnished  with  one  of  those  old-fashioned  kitchen- 
clocks  which  announce  the  hour  by  the  appearance  of  a  wooden  cuckoo. 
The  bird  shows  himself  on  the  sudden  resilience  of  a  little  door  above  the 
dial-plate,  bows  his  head  at  each  stroke  of  the  bell,  like  an  orator  deliv- 
ering a  salutatory  address,  and  then  pops  in  again,  when  the  door  myste- 
riously closes.  Wonderful  things  they  are,  these  cuckoos,  and  must 
have  been  very  consolatory  to  an  unhappy  husband;  but  they  are  almost 
unknown  to  the  present  generation.        *  * 

684.  —  man !  ive  '/e  not  thy  gulls,  but  brother-rooks.]  It  appears,  from 
the  rudeness  of  Scurra,  as  well  as  from  the  fact  that  Rubeta  himself 
always  addresses  the  other  members  of  the  Convention  as  his  peers  or 


CANTO   THIRD  203 

And  see  !  where  Kitty,  with  her  pipes  and  gin,     085 
Impatient,  thrusts  her  greasy  topknot  in. 
Fellows !  your  stoppers  and  your  souls  prepare  : 
Your  hearts  her  eyes  will  fire,  your  pipes  her  hair. 

He  said,  and  brush'd  the  table  with  his  sleeve. 
The  comet,  whizzing  by  them,  took  French  leave,  goo 

As  when  the  moon,  some  cloudless  summer's  night, 
Pours  on  the  world  a  flood  of  living  light ; 
When  not  a  zephyr  wakes  the  silver'd  deep. 
And  the  black  shadows  of  the  mountains  sleep  ; 
The    shore    scarce    murmurs,    and     the    woods    are 
still ;  695 

That  all  is  hush  through  heaven,  on  lake,  and  hill  ; 

mates,  that,  as  the  elevation  of  the  monarch  was  but  temporary,  so  liis 
supremacy  at  the  council-board  was  elective,  and  dependent  on  the  favor 
of  the  conclave.         *  * 

G9I  -  699.  .'Js  when  the  moon  —  etc.]  I  beg  that  no  person  will  endeav- 
or to  trace  a  lame  resemblance  between  .the  style  of  this  comparison, 
(the  subject  and  object  are  altogether  different,)  and  that  of  Pope's  inimi- 
table version  of  the  moonlight-scene  in  the  Iliad.  The  idea  was  sug- 
gested by  an  actual  observation  of  the  effects  of  such  a  scene,  as  they 
are  described  in  the  text;  the  scene  itself  being  copied  after  nature.  It 
was  with  infinite  mortification  that  the  writer  recollected  that  some  such 
picture  had  been  given  by  Homer,  and  rendered  popular  by  Pope,  and 
he  accordingly  endeavored  to  efface  all  similitude  that  might  exist  in  the 
conception ;  and  were  it  not  that  the  four  first  words  of  his  own  com- 
parison are  unfortunately  the  same  as  those  which  open  the  lovely  par- 
aphrase by  the  great  English  poet,  there  would  perhaps  be  no  resem- 
blance whatever.  It  happens  that  the  precise  passage  from  the 
translation  of  the  Iliad  is  cited  in  a  note  to  the  fourth  Canto.*  The 
reader  may  therefore  judge  of  the  sincerity  of  these  remarks  ;  the  ego- 
tism of  which,  as  it  is  caused  solely  by  my  dread  of  appearing  to  have 
copied  what  I  would  not  acknowledge,  I  trust  he  will  have  tiio  kindness 
to  pardon. 

*  See  Appendix,  p.  31)8.         *  *" 


204  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Then  sink  the  angry  billows  of  the  breast, 
And  man's  deep  heart  is  like  the  lake  at  rest ; 
Love    reigns    supreme,  —  glad    youths    adore    the 

pow'r, 
And  maids  grow  kinder  in  the  melting  hour  :  too 

So  at  the  gin  the  wit-hounds'  clamors  cease, 
And  ihoir  rude  muzzles  own  the  calm  of  peace. 
Like  as  the  flies,  some  chilly  morn  in  fall. 
Stick  to  the  mantel,  numb'd,  or  stud  the  wall; 
Scarce  may  the  touch  their  torpid  limbs  unglue  :    705 
Soon  as  the  fire  roars  blazing  up  the  flue. 
Brisk  through  the  room  the  buzzing  parties  move. 
And,  pleas'd,  renew  their  little  life  of  love. 
Such  spirits  and  life  the  sons  of  Sch^ffer  feel, 
Warm'd  by  the  pale  elixir  of  the  still.  7io 

They,  who  before  had  doz'd,  perhaps  had  slept, 
(Save  in  the  tumult,  when  the  hero  wept,) 
Now  feel  new  pertness  fire  the  vapid  brain, 
Sing  their  lewd  songs,  and  tell  their  jokes  again. 

Ver.  701, 702.  So  at  the  gin  the  wit-hounds''  clamors  cease, — And  their  rude 
muzzles  oivn  the  calm  of  peace.]  The  poet  niigJit  liere,  as  in  v.  633,  have 
taken  up  another  of  his  own  comparisons,  and  likened  tiie  newsmen,  now 
contented,  to  the  puppies  when  they  taste  again  the  teat;  for  it  was  just 
before  Rubeta  commenced  his  narration  that  the  wit-hounds  were  re- 
sembled to  these  thirsty  innocents  :  — 

"So  when  the  mother-hound,  sorc-pinclrd  for  food, 
Steals  from  the  kennel  and  her  blue-cy'd  brood, 

etc.  etc. 
The  ivit-hounds  ijelp''d  drij  sorrow  for  the  treat 
Of  pipes  and  drams,  tiie  puppies  mourn  the  teat." 

Cantoi.v.  96-103.        ** 


CANTO  THIRD.  205 

DuLNESS    with    rapture    would     have    own'd    each 

jest,  715 

And  clasp'd  the  shnpcrhig  blockheads  to  her  breast. 

But  not  the  heroic  saint  would  taste  one  drop ; 
He  saw  the  jug  fly  past,  nor  bade  it  stop  ; 
Then  rais'd  the  water-flagon  to  his  head, 
Gulp'd    down    a   mouthful,   cough'd,   and   spit,   and 
said :  —  720 

Let  others  quafl*  the  sable  berry's  juice 
Whose  dull  pulsation  pleads  a  hard  excuse  ; 
No  drench  needs  stimulate  my  brisker  brains  ; 
Zigzag  their  currents,  like  the  royal  Dane's. 
Venus,  all  bounteous,  flam'd  upon  my  birth  ;  725 

Which  makes  me  wise  'bove  other  sons  of  earth, 
(W  ith  beetle  brows,  and  pencill'd  under-lip, 
And  sweetly  walking  with  an  angel's  step.) 

Ver.  719.  Then  rais'd  the  water-Jlagon  to  his  head,]  Nasty  fellows  they 
must  be,  these  newsmen,  who  drink  out  of  the  same  pitcher,  says  a  mod- 
ern commentator  ;  whom  another  corrects,  by  considering  the  act  as  one 
of  brotherly  familiarity.  Both  are  wrong:  it  is  evidently  the  high  pre- 
rogative of  his  place  Avhich  Rubeta  assumes.         *  * 

724.  Zigzag  their  currents,  like  the  royal  Dane^s.]  It  is  a  curious  fact,  that 
this  extraordinary  man,  at  a  more  recent  period,  chose  to  make  this  very 
statement  a  sort  o? finale  to  his  philosophic  Letter,  as  we  have  already 
shown.  Were  there  further  proof  needed  than  that  Letter  itself,  this 
iteration  were  satisfactory  evidence  of  the  truth  of  the  declaration,  as 
showing  how  strongly  the  hero  himself  is  impressed  with  the  fact  of 
his  intellectual  resemblance  to  the  rat-piercing  Hamlet.         *  * 

725-728.  Venus,  all  bounteous,  flani'd — etc.]  Believing  the  hero's  own 
assertion,  that  he  was  born  under  Venus,  it  is  a  singular  fact,  which  may 
revive  astrology,  that  almost  all  the  qualities,  personal  and  intellectual, 
her  ladyship   was  said  to.  bestow   on  the  happy  beings   whose   des- 


200  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Let  a  cag'd  Tasso  chant  the  Lord  in  sin, 

Let  beastly  Juan  sop  his  wit  in  gin,  730 

tiny  she  controlled,  may  be  found  in  this  immortal  man.  "  Venus  est 
Stella  benevola,  ct  facit  natum  pidchrum,  et  maxime  oculis  et  superci- 
liis  carvosum,  mediocris  stalura; :  secundum  animam  vero  bla7idiim,  face- 
turn,  doqucntcm,  musicnlia  diliucentem,  voluptatem,  gaudium  et  choream 
desiderantem,  ornalum  corporis  diligentem,  et  suaviter  incidentem." 
Alb.  Magn.  de  Secretis  Mulierum.  Lugd.  1582.  It  is  true,  that  nothing 
is  said  of  the  thin  and  delicately  marked  lips,  but  that  we  suppose  comes 
under  the  head  of  beauty,  as  delight  in  the  fair  is  probably  included  in 
the  voluptat.  gaud,  et  chor.  desid.,  and  an  admiration  of  silk  stockings  (of 
which  he  once  Avrote  an  eulogy  in  his  gazette),  in  the  ornat.  corp.  dili- 
gens.        *  * 

729,  730.  Let  a  cag^d  Tasso  chant  the  Lord  in  sin,  —  Let  beastly  Juan  sop 
his  ivit  in  gin,'\  The  poet  who  sang  Jerusalem  Delivered  was  wont-  to 
attribute  the  inspiration  of  his  epic  muse  to  Malmsey,  as  Tassoni  says 
in  one  of  the  notes  to  his  amusing  poem:  —  "  Ennio,  Orazio,  e  Torquato 
Tasso  non  sapeyano  comporre  so  prima  non  avevano  ben  bevuto ;  e  il 
Tasso  in  particolare  soleva  dire  che  la  malvagia  sola  era  quella  che  gli 
faceva  fare  buoni  versi,  e  lo  faceva  perfettamente  comporre."  To  which 
he  adds  :  — • "  Gli  spiriti  de  malinconici  si  rallegrano  e  si  soUevano,  e  gril- 
lano  eccitati  dal  calore  del  vino  possente  e  buono : "  which  is  precisely 
the  sentiment  of  Rubeta  in  v.  721,  722 :  and  this  being  correct,  as  we 
have  no  doubt  it  is,  it  would  follow  inversely,  that  men  of  great  vivacity 
would  write  better  when  abstemious :  therefore  Btron  must  have  been 
sadly  in  the  dumps  when  he  put  Don  Juan  upon  paper,  if  the  current 
scandal  be  true  that  that  most  characteristic  of  his  greater  works  was 
composed  under  the  stimulus  of  gin-and-water. 

Rubeta,  it  has  been  seen  on  p.  159,  loves  to  dwell  upon  the  imputed 
faults  of  great  men  ;  not,  as  the  Author  would  there  have  it,  from  a  love 
of  calumny,  and  the  desire  (so  common  to  little  minds)  of  depreciating 
the  moral  excellence  of  distinguished  characters,  but  solely  for  the  good 
of  his  fellow-creatures,  and  to  gratify  that  indignation  which  human 
frailty  always  excites  in  the  breast  of  "  evangelical "  virtue  ;  for,  as  we 
have  seen,  — 

"  An  honest  man  he  is,  and  hates  the  slime 

Which  sticks  on  filthy  deeds." 

#  * 

729.  —  chant  the  Lord  —  ]  Critics  quarrel  with  this  phrase,  as  a 
strange  allusion  to  the  nature  of  Torquato's  great  epic  poem  ;  nor  is  it 


CANTO   THIRD.  207 

I,  like  great  Priam,  am  a  Nazarene, 
And  taste  no  liquor,  though  I  shave  me  clean. 
Come  !   bright  elixir  my  own  Adam  drank ! 
When,  with   his   long-hair'd  rib,  on  Phrat's  green 
bank, 

at  all  surprising,  that  Bayle  should  accuse  Rubeta  of  absolute  ignor- 
ance of  the  Jerusalem  Delivered,  and  attribute  his  expression  to  a 
conjecture  founded  on  the  title ;  but  it  must  be  observed  that  in  mat- 
ters of  fact  Rubeta  has  a  phraseology  of  his  own,  and  no  more  can  be 
said  about  it.        *  * 

731.  /,  like  great  Priam,  am  a  J\tazaren€,'\     The  Ed.  Passam.  has 

I,  like  great  Hector,  am  half  JVazarene, 

{Mizarene,  as  in  the  text,  for  Nazarite ;)  which  is  undoubtedly  the  right 
reading,  unless  Samson  be  the  name,  as  I  am  more  than  inclined  to  sus- 
pect ;  for  it  is  observable,  that  the  note  in  Pope's  Iliad,  which  relates  to 
the  very  passage  whereto  the  learned  and  classical  Rubeta  would  appear 
to  have  reference,  mentions  Samson  as  a  Nazarite,  and  therefore  for- 
swearing the  use  of  wine,  as  Hector  abstained  from  it  through  pru- 
dence: II.  vi.  329— .331,  (263  —  265  of  the  original.) 

732.  — though  I  shave  me  clean.]  A  Nazarite,  or,  as  the  hero  has 
it,  Nazarene,*  did  not  shave  the  hair  of  his  head  during  the  continu- 
ance of  his  vow.  "  All  the  days  of  tlie  vows  of  his  separation,  there 
shall  no  razor  come  upon  his  head;  until  the  days  be  fulfilled,  in  the 
which  he  separateth  himself  unto  the  Lord,  he  shall  be  holy,  and  shall 
let  the  locks  of  the  hair  of  his  head  grow."  {JVumbers  vi.  5  )  Hence, 
by  a  very  natural  exaggeration  of  zeal,  these  devotees  not  only  suffered 
the  hair  and  beard  to  grow,  but  wore  a  garment  made  of  the  skins  of 
goats  or  camels,  with  the  hair  on,  like  the  wandering  prophets ;  such  as 

Elijah  and  the  holy  Baptist  wore,  girt  about  with  a  leathern  girdle. 

#  » 

734.  —  Pbbat's  green  bank.]  Phrat  is  said  to  be  the  Persian  name 
of  the  Euphrates,  one  of  the  four  rivers  of  Eden  :  Eu  signifying 
water.        *  * 


*  Nazaren,  or  Nazirean,  is  a  name  in  church  history  (a  darling  study  of  Rubeta's  : 
see  "  Visit,  &.c.")  which,  first  given  to  Jews  who  embraced  Christianity,  was  after- 
wards confined  to  a  sort  of  heretics  whose  tenets  and  religious  riles  were  a  mixture  of 
Christianity  and  Judaism.  *  * 


208  THE   VJSIO.N    or   RU13ETA. 

He  chew'd  soft  fruits,  whereof  kind  Eve  was  strip- 
per, 735 
And  made  the  rind  serve  both  for  bowl  and  dipper  ! 
Fill  me,  like  him,  with  wit  all  wits  above. 
That  I  may  breathe  such  strains  as  angels  love, 
And  unpedantic  Eves  !  —   He  said,  and  quaff 'd. 
His    fellows     rais'd     their     noggins,     wink'd,    and 
laugh'd ;  740 

Ver.  735, 736.  He  cheiv^d  sojl  fruits,  ivhereof  kind  Erx  ivas  stripper,  —  And 
made  the  rind  serve  both  for  bowl  and  dipper!  ] 

The  savory  pulp  they  chew,  and  in  the  rind, 
Still,  as  they  thirsted,  scoop  the  brimming  stream. 

Par.  Lost,  iv.  335. 
The  hand  of  so  great  a  genius  as  Rubeta  improves  every  thing  it 
touches,  as  Dr.  Johnson  said  of  Goldsmith  :  we  are  therefore  not  sur- 
prised that  the  master  of  sublimity  himself  should  receive  new  lustre  at 
his  hands.  The  picture  of  Eve,  peeling  the  fruit  for  our  general  sire, 
is  a  most  beautiful  addition  to  what  Addison  calls  "the  gallantries  of 
Paradise."         *  * 

738.  — such  stYnins  (IS  angels  love,']  Strains  like  Adam's.  An  allusion 
which  will  be  readily  understood  by  readers  of  Milton.  *  * 

739.  —  unpedantic  Eves  !  ]  This  we  consider,  not,  as  some  think,  a 
mere  allusion  to  the  simplicity  of  the  great  mother  in  Milton,  or,  as  oth- 
ers, a  general  reference  to  the  principal  class  of  Rubeta's  readers,  but 
the  reflection  of  a  loving  look  cast  back  upon  his  lectures.  See  Canto  ii. 
V.  494.  —  Petromus  occasionally  comes  up  to  him  in  this  species  of  gen- 
erous flattery.  Stimulated  by  the  great  success,  with  the  ladies,  of  his 
eloquent  rival,  the  following  year  Petronius  took  his  place,  and,  by  a 
pardonable  zeal  common  with  the  great  men  of  the  day,  to  prepossess 
the  fair  in  favor  of  his  own  exertions,  he  took  occasion,  when  puffing, 
as  it  is  very  vulgarly  called,  a  public  course  of  Lectures  on  Elocution, 
to  pay  his  expected  audience  this  merited  compliment :  —  "  We  may  do  a 
kindness  to  the  ladies,  who  are  no  bad  judges,  as  certainly  they  are  fre- 
quent inspirers,  of  eloquence,  by  saying  to  them,  that  these  lectures  are 
addressed  to  them  as  well  as  to  the  other  sex."  (A*.  Y.  Am.,  Dec.  13, 
1837.)  What  prodigious  children  we  shall  have  one  of  these  days,  when 
their  mothers  are  thus  made  pregnant  with  all  good  things,  it  is  not  easy 


CANTO   TlllllU.  209 

Laugli'd  to  behold  his  modest  eyes  run  o'er 

To  view  the  untasted  cup  he  just  forswore, 

Like  Rozinante,  forc'd  to  cloak  his  fire, 

Stav'd  from  the  ladies  of  his  heart's  desire. 

For  mighty  Gerard  watch'd  him,  well  he  knew,  745 

Sole  pale  ascetic  of  that  jocund  crew. 


to  say.  No  sphere  of  knowledge  is  now  unvisited  by  the  gentler  sex. 
Even  Anatomy  opens  to  them  its  delightful  regions,  (see  papers  of  the 
day.)  And  we  shall  soon  have  those  happy  times  return,  when  a  beauty 
shut  her  closet-door  on  Cupid,  and,  turning  from  her  pigeonholes  his 
mother's  doves,  filled  them  instead  with  calculations  in  arithmetic,  and 
instead  of  nursing  fools,  (not  to  speak  of  chronicling  small-beer,)  was 
safely  delivered  of  geometric  demonstrations,  and  dandled  in  her  snowy 
hands  some  bouncing  problem  of  astronomy.* 

743.  Like  Rozinante,  forced,  etc.]  Alludes  to  the  adventure  of  that 
noble  animal  with  the  Gallician  mares,  when,  conscious  of  his  own  sleek- 
ness, and  in  the  pride  of  youthful  vigor,  he  would  have  shown  his  cour- 
tesy, but  was  ungraciously  beaten  off  by  the  packstaves  of  the  Yangije- 
SES.  '•  No  se  habia  curado  Sancho  de  echar  sueltas  a  Rocinante,  se- 
guro  de  que  le  conocia  por  tan  manso  y  tan  poco  rijoso  que  todas  las 
yeguas  de  la  dehesa  de  Cordoba  no  le  hicieran  tomar  mal  siniestro.  Or- 
deno  pues  la  suerte  y  el  diablo,  que  no  todas  voces  duerme,  que  anda- 
ban  por  aquel  valle  paciendo  una  manada  de  hacas  galicianas  de  unos 
arrieros  yangiieses,  etc.  Sucedio  pues  que  a  Rocinante  le  vino  en  de- 
seo  de  refocilarse  con  las  seiloras  facas,  y  saliendo,  asi  como  las  olio,  de 
su  natural  paso  y  costumbre,  sin  pedir  licencia  a  su  dueno,  tomo  un  tro- 
tillo  algo  picadillo,  y  se  fu6  a  comunicar  su  necesidad  con  ellas ;  mas 
ellas,  que  a  lo  que  parecio  debian  de  tener  mas  gana  de  pacer  que  de  a], 
recibieronle  con  las  hcrraditras  y  con  los  dientes,  de  tal  manera  que  a 
poco  espacio  se  le  rompieron  las  cinchas,  y  quedo  sin  silla  en  pelota  ; 
pero  lo  que  61  debio  mas  de  sentir  fu6,  que  viendo  los  arrieros  la  fuerza 
que  a  sus  yeguas  se  les  hacia,  acudieron  con  estacas,  y  tantos  palos  le 
di6ron  que  le  derribaron  malparado  en  el  suelo."    Don  Quijote,  Tomo 

1°.  XV. 

The  part  we  have  italicized  is  so  singularly  applicable  to    the  sen- 

*  As  tlic  unfortunate  Hypatia,  daughter  of  Thkon  of  Alexandki a,  is  said  to 
have  done,  composing  commentaries  on  Apollonius  and  Diophantus  instead  of  love- 
lelters.    One  of  her  books  on  the  Almagest  of  Ptolemy  is  extant.        *  * 

27 


210  THE  VISION  or  rubeta. 

He,  when  the  hero's  latest  spirt  was  plaj'd, 
Quaff 'd  of  the  sacred  lymph  himself,  then  laid 
His  giant  hand  upon  the  regal  head. 
And,  patting,  mumbled, — Brother,  't  was  well  said.  75o 

Now  rose  big-mouth'd  Petronius,  rich  in  hair, 
Round  and  ferocious  as  a  Russian  bear. 
Too  proud  to  imitate  his  peers  by  far. 
He  scorn'd  the  pipe,  but  sported  a  cigar. 
With  awful  mein  his  hand  thrice  waving  round,     755 
He  spread  it  on  his  chest ;  then  came  the  sound  :  — 

Good  cheer  —  well  cater'd — ay,    in  sooth,   good 
cheer. 
Capital  wench  !  choice  liquor  —  water  clear : 


timental  gallantry  of  the  hero  of  the  Vision,  that  we  have  quoted  it 
more  for  the  amusement  of  the  reader  than  as  german  to  the  matter. 
But  as  Sancho  says  of  Rozinante,  —  "  Jamas  tal  crei  de  Rocinante,  qiie 
le  tenia  por  persona  casta  y  tan  pacifica  como  yo.  En  fin,  bicn  dicen  que 
es  mtncster  mucho  tiempo  para  venir  a  conocer  las  personas,  y  que  no  hay 
cosa  segura  en  esta  vida"  {Ibid.)  A  sage  reflection,  which  will  solace 
every  one  who  has  been  cognisant  of  Robeta's  chivalry  and  unheard-of 
sufferings  in  the  cause  of  injured  or  appealing  beauty,  and  wondered 
how  such  things  could  be.         *  * 

745.  —  Gerard  —  ]  Hale,  the  Editor  of  the  Journal  of  Commerce ;  whose 
baptismal  name,  however,  is  not  Gerard,  but  David,  as  we  have  before  ob- 
served :  a  mistake  which  the  Author  constantly  makes  in  reference  to  this 
distinguished  person ;  and  therefore  we  shall  not  hereafter  notice  it.  *  * 

260.  —  Brother,  ]  Brother,  in  the  familiarity  of  spiritual  afiection ;  as  is 
usual  with  the  citizens  of  the  New  Jerusalem. 

781.  — hiir-moulWd  —  ]  Not,  as  some  would  have  it,  literally,  for  Pe- 
tronius is  not  in  that  way  more  liberally  endowed  than  his  neighbours, 
but  in  respect  of  his  eloquence  —  magna  sonajis  —  "  verba  deo  similis  "  * 

*  ViDA  0/  Virgil  .  Poet.  iii.  ad  fimm. 


CANTO  THIRD.  211 

That  is  —  albeit  —  if  —  no  —  yea  —  ay  — clear  wa- 
ter. 
Pledge  we  tlie  cat'ress  then,  —  our  hostess'  daugh- 
ter. 7G0 
The  toast  is  drunk.    Th'  altisonant  rcsum'd  :  — 
None  will  gainsay  what  's  sequent  —  't  is  presuni'd. 
The  horologe,  if  dial-plate  speak  true,  — 
Scan  him,  Rubeta,  for  his  jaw's  to  you,  — 
The  horologe's  thunder  soon  will  roar,                     765 
Boom  o'er  our  heads,  and  shake  the  soul  once  more, 

—  in  which,  as  we  shall  take  occasion  to  show,  his  capacity  is  immeas- 
urable :  — 

a  large  mouth  indeed, 

That  spits  forth  death  and  mountains,  rocks  and  seas. 
Talks  as  familiarly  of  roaring  lions 
As  maids  of  thirteen  do  of  puppy  dogs. 

A'.  John,  ii.  2. 
757.  Good  cheer  —  ]     See  Petronius  on  public  dinners,  passim.        *  * 
759.  Tlicd  is  —  albeit  —  if —  etc.]     This  is  the  famous  staccato  style  to 
which  RcBETA  refers  in  Canto  iii.  v.  24  :  — 

"  As  thick  as  dashes  on  Petronius'  sheet." 
The  ay,  in  sooth,  catered,  gainsay,  etc.,  are  all  favorite  and  familiar 
phrases  belonging  to  tlie  olden  time  and  the  N.  Y.  American.         *  * 

764.  Scan  him,  Rubeta,  for  his  jaw^s  to  you, —  ]  Commentators  are 
puzzled  to  make  sense  of  this  line,  —  a  frequent  occurrence  with  all  read- 
ers of  this  distinguished  newsman's  ephemeral  emanations.  Obscurity 
is  in  some  degree  a  consequence  of  super-eminence :  the  head  of  Mont 
Blanc  is  not  always  as  easily  visible  as  the  Nose  of  St.  Anthony.  How- 
ever, by  substitutingyace  i^orjaw,  we  shall  see  daylight  more  easily,  and 
the  line  will  stand  as  though  it  were  written 

Mark  it,  Rubeta,  for  it  faces  you.         *  * 

765,  766.  The  horologe's  thunder  soon  will  roar,  —  Boom,  etc.]  This 
is  a  passage  of  such  astounding  sublimity  that  few  will  be  inclined  to 
give  any  modern  credit  for  it :  but,  when  we  assure  the  reader  that  sucli 
is  a  mere  trifle  for  Petronius,  whose  gigantic  phantasia  fashions  in  the 


212  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Till  in  yon  cope  bo  mcrg'd  the  dismal  Steven, 
And  men,  amaz'd,  shriek  out.  There  goes  Eleven! 

iEtnean  stithy  of  his  volcanic  cerebrum  still-more-Cyclopean  thun- 
derbolts, which  he  fulminates  with  terrific  bombulation,  on  the  most 
nugatory  parergy,  to  the  occccation  of  his  perstricted  and  all  but  de- 
phlogisticated  admirers,  he  will  cease  to  wonder.  For  example,  in  his 
journal  of  Nov.  22,  1837,  this  Miltonic  newsman  thus  describes  the  cel- 
ebration of  a  party-triumph, 

• cum 

Herodis  ventre  dies,  unctaque  fenestra 
Dispositse  pinguem  ncbulam  vomu^re  lucernse  ;  * 

"The  roar  of  cTrtillery  ushered  in  the  morning  —  and  while  tiiese  lines  are  going 
through  the  ])ross,  a  second  salvo  is  again  awaking  the  echoes  of  the  siirrormding  re- 
gion." Etc.  — "  and  the  loud-mouthed  cannon,  mbigling  its  voice  here  with  the  roar  of 
the  Atlantic  surge,  icill  go  booming  through  this  great  Slate  until  it  be  lost  amid  the 
etenuil  thunders  of  Niagar-a." 

The  roar  of  the  surge  at  tiie  wharves  of  New  York  is  most  happily 
descriptive  of  a  well-known  fact,  and  the  idea  of  the  great  gun's  going 
booming  through  the  State,  and  ending  its  career  by  felo-de-se  in  the 
falls  of  Niagara,  is  conceived  with  an  originality  and  grandeur  that 
can  only  be  surpassed  by  the  sublimity  of  the  expression  and  the  mag- 
nificence of  the  cadence  :  it  shall  "go  booming  through  this  great  State 
until  it  be  lost  amid  the  eternal  thunders  of  Niagara  !  "  Nothing  could 
have  inspired  such  eloquence  for  so  ordinary  an  occasion,  but  what  he 
himself  calls,  in  the  same  article,  an  "invigorated  hope  in  the  recupera- 
tive power  of  republican  institutions  "  ! 

^fl   KaXXi-PTVoyev   iro(p!av 
KXs;vaTaT!jv   I'TarKuv, 
'Us   iSu   irou   raTin   Xiyei; 
Siuipjav  ixKrriv  avSaf.t 

It  is  in  view  ofllic  aliove  elegant  extract  from  the  American,  that  we  would  suggest 
a  slight  alteration  in  the  text,  and  read,  (as  perhaps  the  Author  really  wrote  them,) 
the  7liotli  and  7(iGth  verses  thus  : 

7'/id  horologe  will  thunder  soon  once  more, 
Boom  o'er  our  heads,  and  wake  us  ivith  its  roar. 
The  line  which  follows  supjiorts  our  conjecture.    Certainly  the  picture  of  the  clock 
booming  over  the  heads  of  the  parly,  until  it  buried  itself  in  the  roof,  would  form  a 
capital  pendant  for  the  cannon  and  Niagara.         *  * 

767.  —  Steven,"]  A  pure  Saxon  word,  signifying  clamor,  loud  noise, 
and  used  by  Spenser  ;  and  which  must  be  particularly  relished  by  all 

*  Pers.  V.  179— 181.  t  Arlstoph.     iV«i.  1024— 1027.        ** 


CANTO  THIRD.  213 

Then  to  our  rites,  ere  yawn  tlie  cuckoo's  beak. 
The    wreck   clear    off,  —  no,  —  ay  !    clear    off   the 
wreck.  "70 

The  hirsute  ceas'd,  and  with  a  martial  frown 
Order'd  fresh  candles,  pufPd,  and  sat  him  down. 
Hell  saw  the  furrow'd  forehead  of  the  Colonel, 
And  o'er  his  eiirhteen  banks  flow'd  Styx  infernal. 
The  very  damn'd  shriek'd  out.    Ixion's  wheel        775 
Then  first  felt  friction,  and  forgot  to  reel ; 


who  are  familiar  with  tlie  admiration  and  reverence  Petronius  so  fre- 
quently expresses  for  pure  "  Anglo-Saxon " ;  though  it  is  true  that 
this  is  the  only  instance  recorded  of  the  sincerity  of  his  devotion;  which 
would  make  us  suspect  that  the  Poet  had  introduced  it  himself"  ut  inter- 
mortuum  vocabulum  in  libris  repullulet."  (Turneb.  in  Juv.  Sat.  xii.) 
But  for  this  point,  and  others  in  the  great  man's  speech,  —  as  its  dubious- 
ness, its  parentheticalness,  etc.  etc.,  —  we  refer  the  reader  to  the  next 
Canto,  where  all  these  matters  are  expressed  in  full.         *  * 

77-2.  — puffed — ]  Not  the  cigar,  as  some  suppose.  It  merely  ex- 
presses the  action  of  the  masseter  muscles  after  so  extraordinary  an  ex- 
ertion. PiERius  tells  us  that,  in  the  ancient  copies,  bleiv  is  the  word. 
There  are  not  wanting  those  who,  recollecting  the  daily  practice  of  news- 
paper-editors, would  make  Petronius  guilty  of  a  pantomimic  allusion 
thereto ;  but  they  forget  that  the  majesty  of  the  epopee  does  not  admit 
of  such  conceits,  and,  though  Milton  has  made  quibblers  of  his  devils, 
a  like  liberty  cannot  be  taken  with  the  superior  order  of  the  press.     *  * 

773.  —  Colonel,]  By  which  it  appears  that  Petronius  enjoys  a  simi- 
lar dignity  with  that  of  Rubeta.  In  the  sixth  Canto  he  is  called,  for  dis- 
tinction, "  th'  amphibolous  colonel."         *  * 

774-775.  — o^er  his  eighteen  hanks  Jlow'd  Sxrx  inftmal. —  The  very 
damn'd  shrieked  out.  Irion's  ivlteel,  etc.]  An  effect  vastly  superior  to 
that  of  the  frown  of  Jove.  When  this  model  of  hen-pecked  husbands 
bends  his  awful  brows  in  Homer,  all  Olvmpus  trembles, 

(//.  i.  330  :  ) 


•totum  nutu  tremofccit  Olympum, 


as  Virgil  translates  it  {.En.  x.  115:)  but,  at  the  wrinkled  forehead  of  the 


214  THE  VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

And  Pelops'  sire,  who  saw  his  pool  stand  still, 
Seiz'd  the  dread  moment,  and  took  one  long  swill. 

Now  Kitty  swept  the  table  in  a  trice, 
'Mid  wink,  and  joke,  and  innuendo  nice.  780 

CoPRONES,  amorous,  would  have  had  her  stay. 
And  curv'd  his  arm  to  intercept  the  way ; 
But  the  chaste  quean  eschew'd  the  mantling  hand, 
Tripp'd  up  his  heels,  and  left  him  on  the  sand. 
Sore  rose  the  youth,  amid  the  gen'ral  roar,  785 

Limp'd  o'er  the  boards,  and  double-barr'd  the  door. 
Befoul'd  with  spawl,  which  flecks  of  sand  emboss, 
He  looked  a  back-log  dotted  o'er  with  moss. 

This  done,  and  clapp'd  their  mossy  brother's  back. 
Up  rose  the  sons-of-Dulness'  dirty  pack.  790 


newsman,  Hell  itself,  unused  to  terror,  shook  Avith  an  earthquake! 
This,  too,  it  must  be  observed,  when  the  frown  was  expressive  but  of  dig- 
nity or  determination.  What  then  had  it  been  of  ire  ?  Styx  would 
have  deserted  his  oozy  bottom  completely,  and  Pluto's  hidden  fires 
been  quenched  for  ever.  O  had  Longinus  but  waited  for  this  passage ! 
However,  it  is  some  satisfaction  to  know  that  poor  Tantalus,  whom 
we  have  always  pitied,  was  somewhat  better  off  than  the  rich  man  in 
Abraham's  bosom.  *  * 
790.  Up  rose  the  sons  —  etc.]  In  some  copies  pointed  thus :  — 
Up  rose  the  sons  of  Dulness,  dirty  pack! 
a  reading  wliich,  thougli  recommended  by  Dr.  Pearce,  is  not  to  be  ap- 
proved, for  the  epithet  dirty  is,  it  appears  to  me,  not  used  empliatically, 
but  as  simply  descriptive  of  the  general  or  the  generic  character  of  the 
party,  —  a  sort  of  delicate  stigma,  laid  on  with  all  possible  respect,  as 
Petronius  says  when  he  accuses  Rubeta  of  ignorance  and  imperfect 
honesty.*        *  * 

*  "  In  very  truth,  the  putting  forth  [of]  such  ohjections  against  the  performance  of  an  act 
of  common  honesty  by  tho  banks  —  the  payment  of  their  debts  — does  seem  to  us  —  we  say 


CANTO  TIIIUD.  215 

Then  stripp'd  the  Chief  his  shoulders'  comely  pride, 
And  brac'd  his  breeches  o'er  the  snow-white  hide ; 
And  the  rest  having  bar'd  a  various  skin, 
But  girt  their  loins,  the  solemn  rites  begin. 


it  •with  all  possible  respect,  —  to  denote  the  gravest  misconceptions  of  duty,  or  very  inade- 
quate knowledge  of  the  subjects  discussed." 

N.  Y.  Am.  ofllth  Dec.  1837,  on  the  Comm.  Adv.  of  8th  of  the  same. 

A  clay  or  two  before,  referring  to  the  same  article,  he  calls  it  "  self-complacent," 
and  says  he  does  not  mean  it  reproachfully.  It  is  in  the  usual  style  of  these  curious 
people,  who  even  give  each  other  the  lie  direct  with  perfect  indifference,  and  receive  it 
back  again  as  it  is  given.  So  you  may  hear  two  scavengers,  or  a  knot  of  chimney- 
sweepers, damn  each  other  to  h with  the  greatest  good-nature  imaginable.  Cer- 
tain expressions  are  to  be  translated  according  to  the  grade  of  society  in  which  they 
are  used.  Thus,  collier  A.  says  to  collier  B.,  who  is  spinning  some  tremendous  yarn. 
You  be  damned!  This  elegant  compliment  would,  in  a  set  a  few  degrees  above  them, 
be  softened  into  Naw  ijou  don't!  and  again,  in  still  more  refined  circles,  would  resolve 
itself  into  the  simple  e\Q.\^.mX\on,  Indeed!    Is  it  ■possible ! 

We  have  taken  this  etymological  trouble  for  the  benefit  of  the  readers  of  newspa- 
pers, who  in  future  will  not  be  surprised  to  hear  the  American  tell  another  journal,  of 
equal  standing,  it  is  guilty  of  "  direct "  or  "  clear  falsehood,"  and  the  latter  perhaps 
retaliate,  without  either's  being  leaded  for  the  civility.        ** 


CANTO   FOURTH 


CATALOGUE    OF    THE   NEWSMEN. 


23 


ARGUMENT. 

Solemn  invocation. —  RUBETA.  Place  of  his  nativity.  His 
divine  parentage.  His  extraordinary  generation  and  concep- 
tion. His  birth.  The  ceremonies  observed  thereat.  The 
attending  deities.  The  infant  is  conveyed  to  modern  Ida. 
What  was  done  to  him  there  :  with  an  account  of  the  adder- 
stone,  and  of  the  sleep  of  enchantment.  How  the  little  hero 
was  made  to  change  cradles  with  the  child  of  a  herdsman. 
Extraordinary  pains  to  rear  him.  His  education.  He  attains 
manhood.  How  he  was  prompted  to  leave  his  supposed  pa- 
rents. Preparations  for  the  voyage  to  Manhattan.  What 
happened  on  the  voyage.  The  hero  commences  his  earthly 
probation.  His  distress  in  a  garret.  His  invocation  of  his 
mother's  gossips.  Its  success.  The  temptation.  Artful  reluc- 
tance of  the  hero.  How  dispelled.  He  devotes  himself,  soul  and 
body,  to  his  tempters.  The  hero  commences  his  ministry.  Rapid 
success.  His  works  recounted,  and  briefly  characterized.  His 
journal  analyzed.  Concluding  apostrophe.  —  PETRONIUS. 
His  parentage.  The  Poet  apostrophizes  him.  Petronitjs  as- 
sumes a  task  lor  which  he  is  unfitted.  Is  befooled  by  his  cor- 
respondents. His  felicitous  style.  His  sound  judgment.  His 
perfect  consistency.  Enthusiasm  in  a  grizzled  head.  Petro- 
Nius,  a  patron  to  certain  muses.  Their  individual  merits  re- 
corded. Petronius,  a  wai*m  friend,  and  a  bitter  enemy. 
His  pardonable  boast  of  candor,  impartiality,  manliness,  and 
independence.  His  venality.  His  modesty  and  regard  for  fe- 
minine chastity.  Petronius,  the  Palemon  of  the  West. 
Summary  of  his  character  as  a  newsman.  —  MARGITES .  He 
is  disposed  of  in  twelve  verses  ;  and  the  Poet  orders  his  aman- 
uensis to  take  up  the  next  character  in  the  catalogue.         ** 


THE 


VISION   OF    RUBE  T  A 


CANTO   FOURTH. 

O  THOU   who  taught'st  the  bard,  that  liv'd   by  ra- 
tion, 
To  muster  in  the  field  the  croaking  nation ; 
Who.  in  another  needy  poet's  brain, 
Butcher  and  bear  didst  sort  on  battle-ph\in  ; 
Say  (for,  without  thee,  who  on  earth  were  able         5 
To  make  one  song  of  these  ten  sons  of  Babel  ?) 
What  graces  rare  invest,  what  virtues  ripe, 
These  lampblack-heroes,  thunderbolts  of  type, 

Ver.  1.  —  the  hard  that  liv'd  by  ration,]  Allusion  to  the  very  sensible 
fable,  that  would  make  the  author  of  the  two  greatest  poems  ever  writ- 
ten to  have  been  a  wandering  beggar.         *  * 

2.  To  muster  in  the  field  the  croaking  nation,]  In  the  Battle  of  the 
Frogs  and  Mice.         *  * 

3-  —  another  needy  poet  —  ]  Butler,  the  immortal  author  of  IIu- 
dibras ;  a  poem  which  contains  more  moral  ivisdom  than  the  works  of 
all  the  poets  put  together,  from  Homer  and  the  dithyrambic  Theban 
down,  saving  only  the  plays  of  Shakspeare.         *  * 

5,  6.  Say,  {for,  without  thee,  &c.)] 

'TfiiTs,  X.  T.  X. 

'H^ir?  Sj,  k.  t.  X. 

B.  ii.  181.. 

8.  —  lamphlack-herots,  — ]  Printing-ink  is  a  composition  of  lamp- 
black and  oil.         *  * 

lb.  —  thunderbolts  of  type,]    "  Fulmina  belli"  is  Virgil's  expression, 


220  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

That  round  the  table  stand,  with  shoulders  stripp'd, 
Like  gangway-culprits  sentenc'd  to  be  whipp'd  ;      lo 
Say,  that  their  glories  Fame  may  trumpet  far, 
And  men  the  jackdaws  know  for  what  they  are ! 

First  (for  who  else  ?)  RUBETA !  Ulster's  pride. 
Born  where  the  Hudson  rolls  his  purple  tide. 
On    the    high    bank   which     morn's    first    shadows 
climb,  15 

The  hero's  cradle  was  itself  sublime. 

applied  to  the  Scipios  (^n.  vi.  844);  exactly  rendered,  by  Drtde.v, 
"thunderbolts  of  war";  whence  Pope  adopted  it,  in  paraphrase  of 
^t^cc'rovTi;  "Actios  [set-vants  of  JIars),  in  the  famous  speech  of  Ajax,  (7/. 
XV.  733  ).        *  * 

14,  15.  Born,  etc.  —  On  the  high  bank  which  morn's  first  shadows 
cli77ib,]  There  is  much  uncertainty  with  regard  to  the  birthplace  of 
the  mighty  hero  of  the  Vision: 

Ulster,  Oxeider,*  New  York,  Dctchess,  county  of  Suffolk, 
QcuK'Ticui't  also,  lays  claim  to  the  birth  of  the  sage.  J 
The  Poet  would  place  it  somewhere  on  the  west  bank  of  the  Hudson, 
in  the  county  of  Ulster  and  State  of  New  York;  yet  we  have  heard 
a  person,  long  resident  in  that  State,  assert  Rdbeta  to  be  a  native  of 
New  England,  and,  he  believed,  of  Sto.mngton  in  Connecticut. 
And  this  nativity,  as  the  reader  is  aware,  we  ourselves  prefer  for  many 
reasons,  which,  as  they  are  scattered  through  the  second  Canto,  it  is  not 
necessary  here  to  recapitulate.  One  of  these  days,  when  the  hero  shall 
be  taken  from  the  scene  of  his  immortal  labors,  and  all  New  York  shall 
be  overflowed  with  grief,  city  upon  city  will  be  founding  clarnis,  on  this 
uncertainty,  to  the  distinction  of  his  cradle  ;  that,  as  of  Homer,  men 
shall  say  of  the  mighty  Rubeta,  with  but  a  change  of  title, 

*  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  Oneida  signifies  the  Upright  Stone.  This  stone  was  a 
clumsy  cylindrical  mass,  ilic  god  or  goddess  of  the  tribe  which  took  its  name  :  whence 
the  name  of  the  lake,  and,  as  in  the  text,  of  the  county.    See  Morse's  Am.  Gazetteer, 

1797. 

t  The  Indian  name  whence  we  have  Connecticut  is  said  to  have  been  Quunnihtkut. 
See  Morse's  Am.  Gaz. 

t  Smyrna,  Chios,  Colophon,  Salamis,  Rhodos,  Argos,  Aihenae, 
Orbis  de  patria  certat,  Homere,  tua. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  221 


Hence,  in  his  works,  that  solemn  strain  he  sings, 
Which  lifts  the  soul  to  Heaven  on  seraph's  wings. 


Seven  -wealthy  cities  claim'd  the  neivsmaii  dead 
Through  whicli  the  living  newsman  begg'd  his  bread  : 

where  begged  is  to  be  understood  in  the  poetical  sense  of  pandering  to 
the  chaste  tastes  of  the  people  by  the  publication  of  horrid  accidents 
and  beastly  outrages,  of  coining  extra-sixpences  by  the  insertion  of 
lying  advertisements  in  editorial  type  and  in  the  body  of  his  newspaper, 
and  of  retailing  political  slanders  to  ingratiate  a  party,  or  subserve  the 
purposes  of  private  pique  and  malicious  envy,  —  with  other  elegant  and 
honorable  arts,  too  numerous  to  mention,  and  for  all  which,  verily,  he 
hath  his  reward  in  the  stately  monument  erected  to  his  virtues  in  this 
grave  epic  poem,  and  in  the  grant  of  arms  obtained  by  royal  concession 
from  the  principal  herald  of  the  King  of  Bantam.         *  * 

17,  18.  Hence,  in  his  works,  that  solemn  strain,  etc.]  An  allusion 
it  appears  to  certain  sublime  stanzas,  which  occur  in  the  Mysterious 
Bridal.  As  these  are  interwoven  inextricably  with  the  prose,  the  reader 
will  allow  for  the  necessity  we  are  under  of  quoting  somewhat  at 
length ;  if  indeed  the  pleasure  he  must  receive,  from  even  the  prose  of 
this  ex;traordinary  writer,  be  not  a  sufBcient  compensation  for  the  time 
it  may  cost  him. 

"  when  a  sudden  transition  was  imparted  to  the  feelings  of  the  whole  group. 

Erecting  her  bending  figure  to  its  full  height,  her  dark  eyes  kindling  like  sparks  of 
lightning,  she  [sc.  the  group]  looked  upwards,  and  pointing  towards  the  house,  with 
a  clear  and  shrill  voice  pronounced  these  words  :  — 

"  A  mischief,  mischief,  mischief, 
And  a  nine-times  killing  curse, 
By  day  and  by  night,  to  the  caitiff  wight 
Who  shakes  the  poor  like  snakes  from  his  door, 
And  shuts  the  womb  of  his  purse  !  " 

The  bridal  poet  must  have  imitation  large,  for  certainly  this  is  a  very 
fine  specimen  of  the  exertion  of  that  faculty  on  the  Rhime  of  the  An- 
cient Mariner.  The  nine-times  killing  curse  would  be  just  the  thing  for 
cats,  and  the  woinh  of  the  purse  explains  very  satisfactorily  the  pithy  ad- 
dress of  the  footpad,  when  he  calls  upon  his  ctistomers  to  stand  and 
deliver. 

We  continue  the  quotation,  as  it  is  too  favorable  an  opportunity  for 
enriching  these  otherwise  dull  comments  to  be  pretermitted,  and  be- 
cause we  consider  that  the  famous  description  of  the  Sibyl's  change  of 
countenance  and  form,  when  {see  Mn.  vi.)  she  felt  the  present  deity,  is 
far  surpassed  by  this  stupendous  genius. 


222  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

For  there,  supine,  the  youth  would  drowse  all  day, 
Enamor'd  of  the  scene  wliich  round  him  lay,  20 

"  Then  directing  lier  atlenlion  particularly  to  the  son  and  iieir,  and  pointing  her  long 
bony  finger  at  him,  slie  resumed  her  wild  malediction  thus  ;  — 
"  Talcott's  son  and  Talcott's  heir, 
Shall  never  enjoy  the  mansion  here  ; 
Five  years  shall  pass,  —  and  his  dying  groans. 
Shall  fill  these  halls  with  tears  and  moans; 
For  a  wreath  of  night-shade  shall  circle  his  head, 
And  the  grave  be  his  cold  and  youthful  bed  :  — 
Note  well  the  hour  !  —  it  is  said  !  —  it  is  said  I  ! 
The  passionate  man  was  appalled  !  [Poor  fellow  !  how  could  he  help  it  ?]     lie  quail- 
ed beneath  \\\(i  Jienj  Jlashitigs  of  Iter  piercing  eyes  ;  while  every  member  of  the  house- 
hold, and  every  guest,  was  petrified  \i.  e.  turned  into  Stones]   with  astonishment.'' 
[Does  not  this,  and  the  dark  eyes  kindling  like  sparks  of  lightning,  etc.  etc.,  surpass 
in  terrific  sublimity  the  "  cui  talia  fanti,  etc."  ?] 

Of  the  above  verses,  it  were  too  fatiguing  to  point  out  the  particular 
beauties,  or  to  translate  into  common  English  the  poet's  classical  phrase- 
ology ;  we  can  merely  exclaim,  in  the  elegant  language  and  honest 
admiration  of  one  of  the  Bridal  heroes,  "  Now  that's  what  I  call  a  little 
too  slick,  — it 's  true  poetry,  —  and  that 's  what  can't  often  be  said,  I  cal- 
culate," or,  in  the  less  refined  words  of  Mopsus, 

Q,ua3  tibi,  quae  tali  reddam  pro  carmine  dona?  (Virg.  £c?.  v.  81.) 
Shall  we  go  on,  or  shall  we  leave  this  "  sanctissimus  vates  "  till  some 
future  Domenichino  transfer  to  canvass  the  bony  finger  and  thunder-and- 
lightning  eyes  —  the  vultus  et  pectus  anhelum,  of  the  North-American 
Sibyl  ?  We  consult  the  reader's  pleasure,  —  his  improvement,  —  and 
continue. 

At  the  catastrophe  of  the  story,  which  appears  to  be  brought  about  by 
a  young  man's  walking  home  with  a  girl  whom  pity  induces  him  to  pick 
up  in  the  "  Cimmerian  darkness"  of  John  Street  (in  New  York),  seeing 
that  she  melted  into  tears,  and  whose  "elegance  in  form  and  step" 
modestly  interested  him,  as  Tamar's  did  Judaii  by  the  road-side,  we 
have  another  of  those  poetical  denunciations,  which  must  have  been 
awful  from  thefitful-headedJVonia  wiio  uttered  them,  "her  eyes  flashing 
with  unearthly  lustre." 

"  lie  is  gone  to  his  home,  and  Talcott's  wife 
]$ewails  her  offspring  —  the  pride  of  her  life;  — 
Like  a  beautiful  tree  he  ivasfresli  and  fair, 
But  the  deadly  blast  hath  left  him  bare :  — 
A  blight 's  upon  Talcott !   a  worm  's  at  the  core. 
And  that  proud-groiving  tree  shall  blossom  no  more  !  " 
"  The  utterance  of  these  lines  was  accompanied  with  frantic  gestures  ;  and,  as  if  over- 
come by  the  violence  [beauty  ?]  of  hex  own  incantations,  [no  doubt,  poor  creature !] 
she  fell  and  expired." 


CANTO  FOURTH.  223 

Gaze,  with  close-window'd  ejes,  till  evening-fall, 
And,  in  magnetic  slumber,  see  it  all. 

But  not,  though  thus  his  modest  lips  have  sung, 
From  earth-built  loins  the  godlike  hero  sprung. 
Where,  in  a  shelter'd  grotto's  mossy  cove,  25 

Darkness  and  Silence  nurs'd  their  ancient  love, 
DuLNESS  her  sluggish  limbs  had  laid  to  rest. 
Here  Levity  the  drowsy  maid  comprest. 
What  time  the  boy-god,  wandering,  hand  in  hand. 
With  Idleness,  along  the  wave-worn  sand,  30 

(Their  sport,  to  scare  the  sea-lark  from  her  food. 
And  skim  with  missile  flint  the  rippled  flood,) 

Thus  on  Meander's  flow'ry  margin  lies 
Th'  expiring  swan,  and  as  he  sings  he  dies. 

[Rape  of  the  Lock,  Canto  v.  65.) 

We  might,  we  dare  say,  have  found  even  more  delectable  passages 
in  other  Tales  and  Sketches  of  this  great  production  ;  but  we  have  con- 
tented ourselves  with  looking  here  and  there  at  this,  and  glancino-  over 
the  final  scenes  of  two  others,  and  we  conclude  with  the  certainty  that 
the  interesting  picture,  here  presented,  of  the  young  man  stripped  of  his 
trowsers  by  the  blast,  and  with  a  worm  at  his  core,  will  induce  all  our 
readers  to  get  the  book  for  themselves  and  enjoy  its  elegance  un- 
mutilated.*         *  * 

22.  Jlnd,  in  magnetic  slumber,  see  it  all.]  See  our  note  to  v.  260,  Canto 
iii.,  which  we  have  thus  some  reason  to  be  proud  of         *  * 

26.  —  nursed  — ]  We  are  sorry  to  see  this  word  in  the  past  tense. 
How  many  solemn  pilgrimages  had  else  been  made,  to  visit  the  spot 
where  the  peerless  Ruby  was  propagated  I         *  * 

31.  —  sea-lark  — ]  One  of  the  local  names  of  a  species  of  sand- 
piper, the  Tringa  Ciiiclus  of  Linne  ;  a  well-known  little  bird,  which  in 
spring  and  autumn  is  seen  running  along  the  edge  of  the  water,  on  the 
banks  of  sandy  rivers,  with  its  tail  in  perpetual  motion.         *  '•' 

*  To  make  assurance  douhhj  sure,  N.  15.  it  is  published  b^'  lliose  galiierers  of  gar- 
bage, "  the  great  bibliopoles,"  as  the  Colonel  gratefully  cogiioniinatcs  them,  the 
brothers  Harper  of  New  York.    Price,  we  should  suppose,  some  twenty-five  cents. 


224  THE   VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

Chance  led  them  by  the  grotto's  mouth  of  stone, 
And  Curious  Fancy  drew  him  in  alone. 

Two  mortal  nights  the  youthful  couple  toil'd,       35 
To  mould  the  metal  of  the  immortal  child. 
But  when  three  times  nine  moons,  with  languor  kept. 
In  DuLNESs'  breast  the  callow  babe  had  slept, 
Hypocrisy  and  Cant  (twin-gossips  these) 
The  groaning  goddess  of  her  burden  ease.  40 

Hugg'd  in  their  lap,  the  skinny  hope  they  shawl 
In  amice  old,  then  dab  its  lips  with  spawl, 

Vcr.  35,  36.  Two  mortal  nights  the  youthful  couple  toiVd,  etc.]  As  Jove 
and  the  daughter  of  Electryon  for  the  generation  of  Hercules. 
Some  suppose,  for  the  same  reason  ;  namely,  that  greater  materials  were 
requisite  for  the  mould  of  such  a  hero,  and  in  order  to  make  him  of 
peculiar  strength.*  A  conjecture  very  unnecessary.  The  time  employ- 
ed was  merely  because  of  the  slowness  with  which  Dulness  conducts 
all  her  imperfect  operations,  and  of  the  superficial  manner  which  dis- 
tinguishes those  of  Levity.         ** 

37,  38.  But  ivhen  three  limes  nine  moons,  etc.]  See  latter  part  of  the 
preceding  note.         *  * 

41  -  46.  Hugged  in  their  lap,  etc.] 

Ecce  avia,  aut  metuens  divum  matertera,  cunis 
Exemit  puerum,  frontemque,  atque  uda  labella, 
Infami  digito,  et  lustralibus  ante  salivis, 
Expiat,  urentes  oculos  inhibere  perita, 
Tunc  manibus  quatit,  et  spem  macram  supplice  voto 
Nunc  Licini  in  campos,  nunc  Crassi  mittit  in  aedes : 
Hunc  optent  generum  rex  et  regina:  puellae 
Hunc  rapiant :  quicquid  calcaverit  hie,  rosa  fiat 

Pers.  ii.  31  —  38. 


Of  the  ancient  superstitions  observed  at  Rome,  on  the  lustration  of 
the  newly-born  infant,  sec  Casaubon's  copious  commentary,  pp.  200, 
etc.,  ed.  Land.  1647, —  FLixYon  the  efficacy  of  fasting  spittle,  J/isf.  JVaf. 

*  — "  in  Alcumenae  adullerio  duas  nodes  Jupiter  copulavit,  ut  magnse  fortitudinis 
Hercules  uasceretur.  Hiekon.  adv.  V'tgil."  Annot.  in  Plauti  Ainphil.  A.  i.  Sc. 
i.  vers.  123.  ed.  Gronov.         *  * 


CANTO   FOURTH.  225 

And  rain  gay  fortunes  on  its  fuzzy  head  :  — 
Through  the  wide  world  his  virtues  shall  be  spread  ; 
Gold  shall  reward  him,  nuns  his  praises  sing,  45 

And  where  he  treads  the  purple  thistle  spring. 

Then  simpering  Impudence  embrac'd  the  same. 
Not  that  pert,  giglet,  lizard-visag'd  dame, 

xxviii,  7,  ed.  Berol.  17GG,  or  Cap.  4.  of  tlie  anc.  edd.  I  am  inclined  to 
think,  that  the  practice  of  the  priests  in  the  middle  ages,  at  the  adminis- 
tration of  baptism,  to  rub  with  their  saliva  the  nostrils  and  ears  of  the 
competents,  as  they  were  called,  had  its  origin  in  this  lustration  of  the 
Roman  infants  by  their  aunts  and  grandmamas.  Casaubon  hints  at  the 
practice,  and  seems  to  have  been  of  the  same  opinion.  Superstitions 
live  by  traditionary  habit.  When  we  were  a  boy  at  school,  we  remem- 
ber being  admonished  to  put  an  eyelash  in  the  hand,  and  the  ferule  of 
the  master  should  break  against  it,  not  to  speak  of  the  more  potent  ear- 
wax  (which  Pliny  says  is  good  against  the  bite  of  serpents).  Whence, 
the  famous  and  cruel  superstition,  which  the  boys  call  pulling  pinkies,  is 
no  doubt  ancient  too.         *  * 

42.  — amice  —  ]  "  Amictus  quo  collum  stringitur,  et  pectus  tcgitur, 
castitatem  interioris  hominis  designal:  tcgit  enim  cor,  ne  vanitnics  cogi- 
tet ;  stringet  autem  collum,  Tie  inde  ad  linguam  transeat  mendaciumy 
[Bruno,  cited  at  the  word  in  Johnson's  Dict.]  —  Dulness'  gossips  would 
seem  to  have  used  this  sacerdotal  wrapper  for  the  inverse  reason  ;  and 
with  what  effect,  these  pages  have  made  or  will  make  manifest,  or  at 
least  it  may  be  seen  in  the  daily  compositions  of  the  hero.     Anon. 

Ih.  —  dab  its  lips  ivith  spawL]  Not  to  keep  off  the  evil  eye,  and  oth- 
er witchery,  as  in  the  above  verses  of  Persius,  but  to  infuse  into  his 
spirits  their  own  eloquence.  Thus  bees  are  fabled  to  have  settled  on 
the  lips  of  Pindar,  and  touched  them  with  honey.         *  * 

45,  4fi.  —  nuns  his  praises  sing,  —  ./Ind  ivhere  he  treads  the  purple  this- 
tle spring.]  Some  very  judicious  commentators  have  supposed  tliis  a 
prophetic  allusion  to  the  honors  received  at  the  Convent  of  the  Hotel 
Dieu.  The  first  part  may  be ;  but  for  the  concluding  line,  we  regard  it 
as  simply  declaring  that  every  thing,  in  that  future  path  of  life  which 
his  great  mother  destined  him  to  tread  awhile  on  earth,  should  be  ac- 
cording to  his  taste  ;  which  is  the  same  sort  of  wish  with  that  of  the 
gossips  in  Persius  — quicquid  calcaverit  hie,  rosajiat.         *  * 

48.  —giglet  —  ]     Shakspeare  uses  giglet  as  an  adjective  more  than 
on«e:  "giglet  wench,"  etc. 
■29 


226  THE   VISION   OF   IIUBETA. 

Whom  Lust  on  Ignorance  engender'd  foul, 

But  of  high-dress'd  Conceit  sleek  ambling  foal ;     oo 

The  same  her  subtle  dam  :  whence  oft,  't  is  plain, 

The  sisters  uterine,  on  earth  mista'en. 

Usurp  each  other's  pow'r  o'er  mortal  hearts. 

And  act,  with  either  sex,  both  double  parts. 

Women  the  first,  her  sister  men  adore  ;  55 

This  moulds  jour  fool,  the  other  paints  the  whore. 

Then  Impudence  took  up  the  imperial  boy. 

And  bore  him  to  the  mount  which  looks  o'er  Troy. 

Here,  in  a  cave,  secure  by  human  fears, 

The  goddess  nurs'd  the  boy  for  five  long  years ;       co 

Ver.  37.  —  imperial  boy,]  Not  imperial  by  a  vague  elogistic  ejjithet,  as 
Ernf.sti  supposes,  but  as  being  the  offspring  of  two  deities  that  divide 
between  them  a  great  portion  of  the  world.         *  * 

68.  —  Tbov]  To  readers  out  of  the  State  of  New  York  it  may 
be  necessary  to  say,  that  this  is  the  modern  Thoy  above  Albany,  with 
its  Ida,  whose  classical  associations  are  so  powerful  tliat  we  are  assur- 
ed by  persons,  with  whom,  as  certainly  as  with  the  magnetizers,  "  fraud, 
deception,  and  imposture  were  entirely  out  of  the  question,"  that  the  lit- 
tle boys  read  Homer  for  pure  pastime,  and  call  their  bread  and  butter 
ambrosia.         *  * 

59.  Here,  in  a  cave  —  etc.]  Why  she  sliould  nurse  him  here,  instead 
of  conveying  him  to  her  favorite  haunts,  has  been  explained  in  various 
ways.  Of  the  two  best  explications,  one  is,  that  this  was  necessary  on 
account  of  the  singularly  imbecile  state  of  the  infant,  as  shown  in  v.  71, 
&c. ;  the  other,  that  it  was  a  part  of  that  education  which  was  to  fit  him  for 
the  part  his  mother  destined  him  to  play  for  the  promotion  of  her  own 
views  among  the  children  of  men.  The  subsequent  lines  confirm 
either  of  tiiesc  conjectures.         *  * 

60.  The  goddess  nurs''d  the  boy  for  Jive  long  years."]  As  the  men  of 
the  Silver  Age  were  tied  to  tiieir  mothers'  apron-string  for  a  hundred 
years  :  — 

txarov  fiiv  tuis  iTtet  ^aea  fj-ni-ipi  xsSv^ 

Ergf^£T   oiTu.yf'itiv  /xiya,  vn'!tio;  ui  ew  o'iku. 
Mes.  Op.  iV  ".  I  M,  1 1.").  (I'uct.  (ircnc,  cd.  Lips.  1818.     Tom.  viii.  p.  33.) 


CANTO   FOURTH.  227 

(Not  that  her  breast  alone  supplj'd  his  thirst ; 
A  goat's  brown  udder  minister'd  at  first ;) 
Taught  him  to  fret  the  spider,  snail,  and  toad. 
And  twist  long  earth-worms  from  their  strait  abode. 
Hence,  in  the  Tales^  sits  grisly  Horror  bare,  or, 

With  blanched  lip,  strain'd  eye,  and  bristled  hair; 

But,  in  the  present  case,  the  tedious  nursing  of  the  little  hero  could  not 
be  owing  to  any  inferiority  of  a  degenerated  race,  for  he  was  the  child  of 
two  deities,  or  demons,  who,  connate  with  the  world,  only  terminate  their 
superhuman  existence  in  the  shock  of  its  destruction,  and  therefore  he 
shared  their  nature,  as  is  shown  and  explained  elsewhere.  We  are  con- 
sequently to  suppose,  that  this  long  lactation  was  necessary  to  the  perfec- 
tion of  an  animated  structure  which  Avas  to  endure,  (under  whatever 
change  of  form,  still  to  endure,)  beyond  the  date  of  man's  brief  ages, 
and,  moreover,  that  it  was  but  in  due  course  for  an  infant  that  had 
been  for  twenty-seven  months  in  a  fcetal  state :  this,  unless  you  em- 
brace the  conjecture  which  we  have  given  in  note  to  v.  35,  and  suppose 
that  his  mother  had  enjomed  on  his  nurse  and  her  attendant  goddess  this 
mode  of  treatment,  merely  in  the  spirit  in  which  she  conducts  all  her 
operations.         *  * 

61,  62.  [J^ot  that  her  breast  alone  supply'd  his  thirst ;  —  A  goafs  brown 
udder  mimsier\l  at  first ;)  ]  Why  a  goat  at  first  ?  The  answer  is  found 
in  a  very  simple  hypothesis :  that  the  goddess  was  not  provided  just  at 
this  juncture.  Otherwise :  — The  long  period  of  the  hero's  infancy  Avould 
have  drained  even  the  lacteals  of  a  goddess,  unless  an  assistant  had 
been  taken  ;  and  the  hero  was  given  first  to  the  goat,  that  he  might  en- 
joy the  milk  of  Impudence  at  a  time  when,  being  more  mature,  he  would 
more  thoroughly  and  readily  imbibe  all  its  virtues. 

Be  which  as  it  may,  one  thing  is  certain,  that  the  licro  displays  the  ad- 
vantages of  this  double  nursing,  combining  in  his  mortal  and  immortal  na- 
ture the  qualities  of  both  attendants.  Nor  may  it  be  irrelevant  to  remark 
the  coincidence  between  the  infancy  of  Rcbeta  and  that  of  the  father  of 
gods  and  men ;  both  suckled  by  the  same  fragrant  animal,  each  in  a 
cave,  each  in  his  Ida.  Thus,  begotten  as  Hercules,  and  reared  as  Ju- 
piter, what  wonder  that  the  immortal  hero  of  the  Vision  should  have 
shown  himself  to  men  tlie  prodigy  he  is  !         *  * 

65.  Hence,  in  the  Tales,  sits  gristly  Horror  bare,"]  We  should  like  to 
feel  Rubeta's  head,  says  an  anonymous  critic :  with  diminutive  intellect, 
there  must  be  tremendous  destructiveness,  to  account  for  his  love  of 


228  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Hence  too,  the  feet  of  vault  and  trapdoor  fond ; 
And  hence,  the  hand  durst  wield  the  mystic  wand. 
This,  when  the  game  was  brought  within  his  reach, 
Laid  on  his  little  breast  or  swaddled  breech.  to 

For  yet  the  child  could  neither  see,  nor  crawl. 
No  sound  it  utter'd,  save  melodious  squawl. 
Or  when,  laid  on  its  nursing-mother's  teat. 
The  infLint  wag  would  laugh   the  swelling  globes  to 
beat. 
Lull'd  by  the  changeless  song  of  a  cascade,  75 

Whose  silver  Naiads  near  the  grotto  play'd. 
The  god-born  cherub,  nearly  all  the  day, 
Lay  in  the  lap  of  Slumber,  while  away, 

skeleton-hands  which  drop  blood  upon  an  old  Dutch  dinner-plate,  toma- 
hawked women  whose  "  dark  ringlets  "  were  "  ravished  by  the  scalping- 
knife,"  and  murdered  tinmen,  "horrible  looking  fellows"  "  wliistling  Yan- 
kee Doodle,"  "  whose  eyes  gleamed  like  sparks  of  hell,"  and  "  whose 
horse,  with  three  white  feet,"  drove  sleep  from  the  eyelids  of  a  master 
Conrad  who  was  "  unimpressible  even  by  waking  visions  of  bliss  with 
the  fair  Christina  DiefendorfF,"  [Fye,  thou  dishonest  Sathan!*)  "in  his 
warm  cn)brace."     Anojn. 

The  fact  is  here  accounted  for,  the  expanding  organ  having  been  fed 
with  these  daily  indulgences.         *  * 

74.  The  infant  ivag  ivoidd  laugh  —  etc.]  This,  as  Giraldi  remarks. 
was  Levity's  part  in  the  little  cherub,  and  showed  him  a  true  cliild  of 
his  vivacious  sire.  He  might  have  added,  that  it  was  a  promise  of  his 
future  facetiousness :  which  is  indeed  implied  in  the  phrase  infant  wag. 

P.  S.  Onr  remark  is  amply  confirmed  through  the  late  discovery  of 
the  Cod.  Passam.,  where  the  disticli  is  written  thus: 

Or  when,  press'd  to  the  rosy  dug,  it  joy'd  to  hit 
The  soft-rebounding  orb,  and  laugh'd,  swtet  budding  wit! 

#  # 

*  From  "  Twelfth  iNiuLi  "  :  A.  iv.  Sc.  2.        *  * 


CANTO  FOURTH.  229 


80 


85 


Away  on  the  air,  his  foster-mother  hies, 
Borne  in  a  fihii  by  six  blue-bottle  flies. 
With  aid  her  darling  votary  to  bless, 
And  turns  the  rounce  of  Adam  Waldie's  press. 
For  harm  might  never  wrong  that  baby  lone  ; 
Around  whose  neck  was  hung  the  lucid  stone, 
Toss'd  by  the  knotted  snakes  in  mystic  ring. 
Her  own  dear  mother  caught  it  on  the  wing, 
And  bore  across  the  stream,  with  speed  of  light, 
The  vengeful  serpents  pressing  on  her  flight ; 


Ver.  s-2.  — ylDAM  Waldie  —  ]     He  is  the  printer  and  publisher*  of  the 
Am.  Q,.  Review,  the  printer,  and  editor  I  suppose,  of  a  Journal  of  Belles 
Lettres,  and  the  ditto  factotum  of  various  other  publications  of  equal  ' 
value. 

The  text  is  illustrated  further  on  in  the  Canto.  *  * 
84-  88.  Around  whose  neck  was  hung  the  lucid  stone, —  Toss'd  by  the 
knotted  snakes,  etc.]  A  druidical  superstition,  mentioned  by  Pliny. 
Remains  of  it  are  said  to  exist  at  tlie  present  day,  in  Wales,  Scotland, 
and  Germany.  Perhaps  the  gilded  beads,  which  we  ourselves  have 
seen  hung  with  great  solemnity,  by  very  decent  people,  around  the 
necks  of  children  in  some  parts  of  New  England,  to  prevent  bleeding 
at  the  nose,  are  but  another  shape  of  the  same  precious  amulet,  Pliny's 
account  of  this  famous  serpent's  egg  is,  that  it  is  formed  by  the  saliva 
and  slime  of  a  great  number  of  snakes,  which  in  the  season  of  summer 
sociably  meet  and  knot  themselves  together  for  the  purpose.  When 
formed,  the  mystic  party  toss  it  in  the  air,  and  the  Druid  who  watches 
for  it  intercepts  the  treasure  in  a  cloak,  or  blanket,  before  it  can  touch 
the  ground.  The  happy  owner  then  hurries  away  on  a  swift  horse, 
pursued  by  the  serpents  till  he  shall  have  crossed  a  stream.  The  words 
of  this  excellent  Mother  Goose  are  as  follow :  —  Prseterea  est  ovorum 
genus  in  magna  Galliarum  fama,  omissum  Grascis.     Angues  innumeri, 

*  It  is  under  this  character,  I  should  imagine,  that  he  is  at  all  mentioned  in  the  Vis- 
ion. It  is  the  hireling  he  employs,  whoever  the  same  may  be,  that  is  hit  over  his 
shoulder.  The  Ajii.  Q.  Review,  and  the  J.  of  B.  L.  are  the  two  most  impudent  publi- 
cations (that  are  not  newspapers)  in  America.        *  * 


230  Tin:    VISION    OF   IIUBETA. 


Which,  desperate  that  they  might  not  bruise  her  heels, 
Plung'd   down    the    bank,  and   turn'd  to  great   sea- 

Ccls.  90 


testate  convoluti,  salivis  faucium  corporumque  spumis  artifici  complexu 
glomerantur.  Anguinum  adpellatur.  Druidae  sibilis  id  dicunt  in  sub- 
lime jactari,  sagoque  oportere  intercipi  ne  tellurem  attingat.  Profu- 
gerc  raptorem  equo :  serpcntcs  enim  insequi  donee  arceantur  amnis 
alicujus  interventu.  [Hist.  JVat.  xxix.  12.  cd.  1766.]  He  adds,  that  it 
was  in  great  estimation  for  rendering  the  Avearer  superior  in  disputes.* 
Hence  Rubeta's  triumph  in  the  argument  with  Bruno. 

However,  what  became  of  this  stone  when  Ruby  grew  to  manhood  is 
not  known.  Some  suppose  that  it  remained  still  in  his  possession,  and 
that  it  is  the  identical  pebble  which  figures  above  the  dexter  side  of  the 
scroll  in  his  royal  achievement  (^ee  Canto  iii.  ver.  566.),  while  others  add, 
that  it  is  from  the  actual  possession  of  this  celestial  gift,  that  the  hero 
derives  his  most  familiar  appellation,  —  a  name  which  one  would  rather 
have  thought  was  owing  to  the  denseness  and  perfect  solidity  of  his 
brain.  The  matter  is  worthy  of  investigation,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that 
the  Antiq.  Branch  of  the  Hist.  See.  of  the  venerable  State  of  New 
York  will  take  it  into  their  consideration.         *  * 

90.  —  turned  to  great  sea-eels.']  A  transformation  not  so  extraor- 
dinary as  may  at  first  appear,  for  Cupid  of  old  made  the  congers  and 
vipers  very  good  friends.  Achilles  Tatius,  in  his  romance  of  tlie 
Loves  of  Clitophon  and  Leucippe,  (in  the  first  Book,  I  think,f  where 
the  bashful  hero  begins  to  make  court  to  his  fair  cousin,)  tells  the  story 
of  these  famous  anguilline  amours  :  how  the  ardent  viper  stands,  on  his 
tail  of  course,  on  the  shore  by  the  sea,  and  hisses  to  his  lady-love  ; 
whereupon  the  tender  conger  comes  out,  all  dripping,  from  her  bed ;  but 
knowing  that  her  lover  has,  like  Hamlet,  something  in  him  dangerous, 
the  lady  mounts  a  rock,  until  tlie  viper  has  spit  out  all  his  venom  and 
cleaned  his  teeth.  Pliny  mentions  casually  the  same  fable,  or  rather 
alludes  to  it  as  a  notion  current  with  the  vulgar.  JElian  recounts  it  in 
full.     In  the  same  way,  Aristotle,  Oppiax,  and  others.         *  * 

*  So  much  so,  that  lie  accuses  the  Emperor  Claudius  of  having-  made  way  wiili  a 
Roman  knight  for  its  possession.  "  Ad  victorias  litium,  ac  regum  aditus,  mire  lauda- 
tur  :  tantaj  vanilatis,  ut,  habentem  id  in  lite,  in  sinu,  equilem  Romanum  e  Vocontiis  a 
Divo  Claudio  Principe  interemlum,  non  ob  aliud  sciam."   Ibid. 

t  P.  S.  It  is  in  \h&  first  Book,  I  find ;  Sect.  xvii.  'O  i'xii  h  r^j  yTii  o<pti,  k.  t.  A.  My 
memory  has  served  me  so  faitlifully  in  the  note  above,  as  to  supersede  the  necessity 
of  quoting  the  passage  at  lengtii.        '■*  * 


CANTO   I'UUllTH.  231 

But  when  brown  Ida's  top  was  hoar  with  snow, 
She  spread  her  hands  before  the  infant's  brow : 
Tiie  babe  to  breathing  ivory  was  turn'd, 
And  with  the  dormice  slept  till  spring  return'd  ; 
When,  crossing  it  again,  she  whisper'd.  Wake,        95 
And  broke  the  rest  God's  thunder  might  not  shake. 

It  chanc'd,  that,  near  the  hero's  natal  spot, 
A  herdsman's  wife,  by  fortune's  timely  lot, 
Was  mother  of  a  child  (the  country's  talk). 
Which  knew   nor  sight,  nor   speech,  nor  yet   could 
walk;  100 

Of  the  same  age;  and,  strangest  part  of  all  ! 
Whose  very  gender  was  equivocal. 


93,  94.  The  bale  to  breathing  ivory  ivas  turii'd,  —  Jind  tvith  the  dor- 
mice slept  till  spring  return'd ;]  A  new  wonder !  Animal  Magnetism 
owes  not  its  origin  to  Mesmer  nor  its  perfection  to  Dr.  Capon.  Here 
we  see  the  soporific  charm  employed  by  the  true  inventor,  Impudence 
the  daughter  of  Ignorance.  We  shall  come  to  further  discoveries 
presently.  By  the  way,  the  practice  of  this  great  science  is  of  ancient 
date :  the  Sleeping  Beauty,  she  who  lay  for  a  hundred  years  in  the 
enchanted  bower,  was  simply  in  a  state  of  magnetic  slumber ;  and  the 
Prince  who  woke  her,  what  was  he  but  some  potent  magnetizer,  some 
great  Capon,  or  still  greater  Ruby,  Avhose  breast  was  in  magnetic 
affinity  with  hers  ?        *  * 

95.  When,  crossijig  it  again,  she  whisper'd,  Wake,  —  Jlnd  broke  the  rest, 
etc.]  As  corroborative  of  our  last  note,  with  regard  to  the  celestial  origin 
of  Animal  Magnetism,  we  quote  the  following  passage  from  the  prodigy 
of  Letters  :  —  "  Dr.  Capron  [Capon  ?]  now  again  willed  her  away  from 
me,  resumed  his  control,  and  by  the  peculiar  mental  process  of  Animal 
Magnetism,  together  tvith  a  feiv  brushes  of  his  hand  over  her  forehead, 
aivoke  her,"  (p.  48,)  from  a  slumber  "so  profound,"  as  the  Letter-writer 
observes  on  p  38,  "  that  the  discharge  of  a  park  of  artillerij  tvould  not 
disturb  her."        *  *' 


232  THE   VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

Her  babe  unwean'd,  the  mother  was  drawn  dry, 

And  strain'd  a  point  to  nurse  her  fancj'd  boy. 

For  this  a  large  full-bosom'd  quean  was  hired,         105 

Whose  buxom  birth  Vulgarity  had  sired. 

What  time,  beneath  an  elm's  love-sheltering  tree, 

A  milkmaid  stoop'd  to  ease  her  prurient  knee, 

The  god  delighted  spy'd  her  ruddy  charms, 

And  clasp'd  the  fragrant  beauty  in  his  arms.  no 

From  her  fresh  fount  the  backward  babe  was  fed. 

And  shar'd,  at  night,  her  modest  truckle-bed. 

Now  when  five  times,  around  the  central  sun, 
Spurr'd  by  the  Hours,  the  circling  Years  had  run. 
The  immortal  nurse,  whom  borrow'd  features  hide,  ii5 
Her  mortal  sister's  pallet  stood  beside. 
'T  was  the  last  hour  before  the  dead  of  night ; 
But,  through  a  window,  stream'd   the  round  moon's 

light. 
And  show'd  the  nurse,  supine,  in  slumber  deep, 
Snoring  to  keep  her  little  charge  asleep.  120 

An  alliaceous  odor,  floating  o'er  her. 
The  goddess  told  her  step-niece  lay  before  her. 
Whom,  softly  touching,  she  awoke,  and  said  :  — 

And  canst  thou,  careless,  keep  thy  idle  bed  ? 


Ver.  116.  —  sister  —  ]  In  respect  of  office  merely ;  for  Vulgarity  is 
only  the  son  of  Ignorance,  which  therefore  would  make  the  relation 
between  the  nursing-mothers  that  of  aunt  and  niece.        *  * 


CANTO  FOURTH.  233 

Lo,  on  his  straw,  beside  the  mow  of  hay,  125 

My  brother  waits  thee  !  Thus  he  bade  me  say  :  — 
Be  not  too  long  in  coming ;    Devil  take 
His  soul,  if  he  would  lie  all  night  awake ! 
Haste  thee,  O  haste  !  thy  Scipio  waits  his  queen : 
Thrice     hath    he    in     the     horsepond    wash'd    him 
clean.  130 

Soft  yawn'd  the  fair,  and,  rubbing  hard  her  eyes. 
Sprang  from  the  sheets,  and  bar'd  two  lily  thighs. 
She  saw  the  false  one's  jetty  skin  and  hair. 
And  deem'd  her  cowboy's  sister  waited  there. 
I  go,    (she   said ;)    but   Lord  !    't  would   serve  him 
right,  135 

To  let  the  saucy  villain  snore  all  night. 
Stay,  —  where  's  my  shift  ?  O  here  !   I  run  - —  I  fly. 
JuDE,  take  my  place,  for  fear  the  baby  cry. 

She  shot  the  door.     The  artful  goddess  smil'd. 
Sprang  through  the  roof,  and  bore  away  the  child.   140 
In  Ida's  cave  she  laid  the  little  head. 
And  bearing  back  the  god-born,  in  its  stead, 
Breath'd  on  his  face,  as  through  the  air  they  past, 
And  bade  his  features  take  the  mortal's  cast. 


Ver.  144.  .4ni  hade  his  features  take  the  mortaVs  cast."]  Considered  by 
many  to  be  altogether  allegorical  and  poetical.  Undoubtedly  the  whole 
story  of  the  birth  and  education  of  Rubeta  will  bear  such  an  explana- 
tion ;  but,  for  ourselves,  we  should  deem  it  heiesy  to  interpret  otherwise 
than  literally  any  the  least  particular  of  this  marvellous  narrative  :  for 
how  else,  as  we  have  already  intimated,  could  we  account  for  the  mira- 
30 


234  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Thus  DuLNESS  will'd.  She,  plotting  projects  deep, 
Rapt  in  the  care  profound  of  solemn  sleep,  i46 

Design'd  her  darling  son  should  prop  the  throne, 
And  wield  his  father's  sceptre  and  her  own. 
Hatch  novel  follies  in  his  mossj  brain. 
And  add  new  subjects  to  her  leaden  reign.  150 

As  the  dull  earth  ne'er  images  the  sun. 
Nor  jet  those  orbs  which  stud  night's  dimmer  noon, 
Yet  oft  shall  heaven's  fantastic  colors  show 
The  forms  of  things  which  grace  the  world  below ; 
So  that,  at  sunset,  in  our  brilliant  clime,  155 

The  mottled  clouds,  oft  ridg'd  and  ribb'd  sublime, 
Depict  the  wave-wash'd  beach,  while  seems  to  be 
The  expanse  beneath  soft  plain  of  summer's  sea ; 
Even  thus,  may  beings  of  celestial  birth 
Assume  the  gross,  and  sensual  shapes  of  earth  ;      ico 
And  thus,  whom  two  immortal  sp'rits  had  fram'd 
Bore,  from  that  hour,  man's  visage  unasham'd, 
The  vulgar  mouth,  pert  eye,  and  stupid  brow, 
Which  loving  Church-street  sees  him  wearing  now; 
Himself  deceived  ;  though  sometimes  intuition       iC5 
Gives  him  strange  inklings  of  his  true  condition. 

cles  which  New  York,  which  Montreal,  which  Providence,  has  M'it- 
nesscd  wrouo;ht  by  this  one  being,  —  poet,  historian,  novelist,  lecturer, 
editor,  virtuoso,  vindicator  of  aspersed  virginity,  neophyte  and  propagator 
in  and  of  the  dark  science  of  animal  magnetism,  colonel  of  a  trainband 
regiment  disbanded,  grand  nincompoop,  &c.  &c.  &c.?     Anon. 

166.  —strange  inklings  of  his  true  condition.]  See  our  notes  to  v.  260, 
and  273  of  Canto  iii.        ** 


CANTO  FOURTH.  235 

But  the  true  tadpole  of  the  ncntlierd's  loins 
The  simpering  goddess  in  the  cave  conhnes 
For  twelve  score  moons.     It  felt  not  time's  advance, 
Rapt  through  all  seasons  in  magnetic  trance  ;  no 

But  sightless,  speechless,  all  but  sexless,  lay, 
A  sluggish  mass  of  animated  clay. 
Then  was  it  borne  to  Roger  Williams'  bay. 
Here,  taking  sex  and  speech,  the  changeling  grew, 
DuLNESs'  delight,  and  taught  men  follies  new.       175 
For  though,  by  long  seclusion  from  the  light, 
Its  visual  orbs  had  never  perfect  sight. 
Kind  Impudence  soon  turn'd  that  loss  to  gain. 
And  better  organs  planted  in  the  brain, 

Ver.  173 to  Roger  Williams'  bay.]     Narraganset  bay.     The  city  of 

Providence  is  evidently  here  designated,  of  which  Roger  Williams 
was  the  first  settler.         *  * 

176,  177.  —  by  long  seclusion  from  the  light,  —  Its  visual  orbs 
had  never  perfect  sight,]  The  cause  of  Loraina's  blindness  (for  there 
can  be  no  question  that  the  herdsman's  child,  whose  wonderful  history 
is  given  in  these  pages,  is  "  the  young  lady  of  delicate  mind  and  man- 
ners, modest  and  diffident,"  and  tender  withal,  of  the  Letter  on  An. 
Magn.,)  the  cause  ofLoRAiNA's  blindness  is  not  therefore  as  Rubeta, 
deceived  by  his  great  medical  knowledge,  assumes  it  to  be,  an  amau- 
rosis of  paralytic  character,  the  consequence  of  the  fall  of  an  iron 
tveight  of  several  pounds  from  a  considerable  elevation  on  the  croivn  of  her 
head  (see  p.  10  of  the  Letter),  and  which  entirely  deprived  her  of  her  rea- 
son for  several  months,  in  order  to  endow  it,  in  the  interim,  with  omnipo- 
tent powers,  though  it  has  something  certainly  to  do  with  neurology.* 

*  * 

179.  —  planted  better  organs  in  the  brain,]     The  reason  why  the  blind 

*  See  Letter,  &c.,  where  thai  great  etymologist,  and  rival  of  Petronics  in  the 
pure  use  of  English,  employs  the  term  neurology  in  a  sense  which  we  hope  to  see 
adopted  b}-  all  correct  writers  :  for  example  :  ''  Animal  Magnetism  has  from  the  first 
been  prescribed  by  the  practisers  of  the  art  in  cases  of  neurology."        ''  " 


236  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Taught    her,    (for    now    the    frog    wore    woman's 

clothes,)  180 

To  see  men's  bowels  throLigli  their  button'cl  hose, 
Use  priest  and  layman  for  her  pliant  tools, 
And  make  dull  Capons  of  a  score  of  fools. 


prophetess,  in  order  to  see  a  picture,  licld  it  over  the  crown  of  her  head, 
as  is  told  in  the  Letter.  It  is  a  great  happiness  to  us,  that  thus,  in  our 
office  of  Editor  of  this  poem,  we  find  it  in  our  power  to  throw  light  upon 
the  pages  of  another  work  which  we  really  consider  the  most  surprising 
production  of  the  age.         ** 

181.  To  see  meii's  bowels  through  their  buttoned  hose,]  This  is  a  miracle 
which  the  Letter  on  An.  Magn.  does  not  tell  us  was  performed  by  Lo- 
RAiNA,  but  by  another  lady  of  magnetic  affinities.  The  Appendix  to  the 
first  edition  of  that  luminous  work  makes  one  Dr.  Brownell,  of  Provi- 
dence, tell  a  story  of  this  latter  somnambulist,  then  at  his  house,  who 
discovered  the  secret  diseases  of  one  of  his  patients,  though  the  latter 
was  "  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile*'  off.  Among  other  things,  says  the 
sage  Doctor,  "  while  I  was  gone  into  the  library,  she  said  to  a  lady  pres- 
ent, Every  once  in  a  ivhile  I  saw  fluids  pass  from  his  stomach  into  his 
bowels."  (p.  65.)  This  is  really  ravishing  news  for  tiie  world  of  science  ; 
for  now  shall  there  be,  no  longer,  bars  to  human  discovery  in  the  arca- 
na of  nature  ;  but  while  Loraina  is  sent  to  Egypt  to  finish  the  work 
begun  by  the  unfortunate  Champollion,  who,  alas  !  could  not,  like  her, 
read  what  is  legible  only  to  the  "  eye  of  Omnipotence,  "  this  maid  of  the 
appendix  shall  inspect  the  process  of  generation,  and  man  no  more  be 
analyzed  into  tadpoles  at  the  will  of  a  Leuwenhoek,  or  fluctuate  in 
doubts  what  part  his  mother  furnished  of  his  composition.         *  * 

By  the  by,  it  is  a  little  surprising,  that  Drs.  Capron,  Brownell  & 
Co.  should  not  employ  these  ladies  in  their  special  practice.  Can  it  be 
that  they  fear  the  cure  of  diseases  would  be  too  speedy ;  or  that  they 
should  have  no  loophole  to  creep  out  at,  in  case  they  misapplied  the 
remedy  ?        *  * 

The  latter  possibility  cannot  exist;  for  the  same  omniscience  that  dis- 
covered the  diseases  would  of  course  have  prescribed  the  exact  remedy. 
It  is  a  shame,  indeed,  that  men  should  have  their  lungs  explored  with 
stethoscopes  and  their  bladders  searched  by  sounds,  when  a  nice  young 
woman,  "  modest  and  diffident,"  can  find  their  tubercles  and  feel  their 
stones,  by  simply  going  to  sleep.     Cork. 

83.  —  Capons  —  ]     Bentley  writes  this  word  with  a  small  c,  which 


CANTO  FOURTH.  237 

Meantime  the  little  hero  (glad  surprise  !) 
Op'd,  in  the  humble  cot,  his  glowing  ejes ;  185 

Next  taught  his  flaccid  limbs  to  know  the  ground  ; 
And  his  lips  last,  to  form  the  vocal  sound. 
Wondrous  his  progress  then !     'T  is  said  he  sneer'd. 
Six  months  before  his  cutting-teeth  appear'd  ; 
And  when  the  nurse  would  teach  her  mammet  Ma,  lOO 
It  laugh'd  outright !  and  softly  bleated,  Baa  ! 
That  the  pleas'd  dame  exclaim'd,  in  honest  glee,  — 
This  witty  boy  will  be  the  death  of  me  ! 

would  make  of  the  passage,  if  not  nonsense,  at  least  no  very  precise 
sense.  Capon  is  undoubtedly  the  name  of  some  eminent  pu])il  in  the 
magnetic  art.  In  the  Letter  on  An.  Magn.,  the  name  and  style  of  the 
great  thumber  of  Lorai.na  is  Dr.  Capron.         *  * 

J9I.  bleated  Baa  !  ]  Supposed  by  some  to  be  the  recollection  of  his 
first  ideas,  the  impression  of  the  voice  of  his  Amalthea,  now  called  up 
by  the  similarity  of  sound  between  what  his  present  nurse  would  teach 
him  and  what  he  had  often  heard  from  the  former;  by  others  (and  these 
would  write  it  Bah!  )  to  be  in  contempt  of  a  title  which  he  knew  was 
wrongfully  applied  to  the  wife  of  the  herdsman.  The  first  hypothesis  is 
at  least  plausible  ;  the  latter,  however  apparently  approved  by  the  first 
hemistich,  cannot  be  sustained  by  the  previous  text,  for  in  v.  1G5  we 
have  "  Himself  deceived."  For  our  own  part,  we  incline  to  the  idea  of 
the  honest  nurse,  and  consider  it  the  first  verbal  sally  of  that  playful  fan- 
cy, which,  in  after  days,  became  the  delight  and  wonder  of  Manhattan. 
Thus  does  the  hero  (whose  first  lustre  is  to  be  counted  but  as  the  first 
twelve  months  of  ordinary  infants)  stand  foremost  in  the  list  of  exam- 
ples of  precocious  genius ;  greater  than  Heinecken  himself,  who  at 
fourteen  months  knew  the  whole  Bible,  and  at  four  years  could  talk  di- 
vinity, repeat  hymns  innumerable,  and  discourse  most  fluently  and  un- 
derstandingly  in  three  languages  besides  low  Dutch ;  greater,  inasmuch 
as  wit  is  a  higher  and  rarer  quality  than  a  strong  memory  and  powers  of 
theological  ratiocination,  and  as,  unlike  to  Heinecken,  who  met  the  fate 
of  all  antedated  talent,  the  hero  of  the  Vision  has  been  constantly  ad- 
vancing in  every  qualification  which  these  pages  show  to  have  adorned 
his  diaper,  and  shed  a  lustre  round  his  red-sized  cradle.         *   * 


238  THE   VISION   OV  RUBETA. 

O  might  we  tell  the  fancj'd  mother's  care, 
The  nurse's  pains,  to  rear  the  immortals'  heir  !       195 
IIow  on  his  face  a  paper  mask  was  ty'd. 
To  keep  his  eyes  from  turning  of  one  side, 
Like  marry'd  pair,  or  steers  before  a  load. 
That  pull  two  ways,  although  they  keep  one  road. 
How  when,  in  travail  with  its  teeming  gum,  200 

The  babe  sought  solace  from  obstetric  thumb, 
They  rubb'd  the  harden'd  ridge,  to  allay  the  itch, 
With  pig's  brains  and  the  milk  of  pupping  bitch, 
And  round  its  neck  a  viper's  tooth  suspended. 
Which  brought  out  twins  at  once,  as  was  intended.  205 


Ver.  197.  To  keep  his  eyes  from  turning  of  one  side,]  Paul  of  ^Egixa,  and 
after  him  Ambrose  Pare,  according  to  Mauriceau,  recommended  that 
a  mask  perforated  with  two  small  holes  for  the  eyes  should  be  put  upon 
the  face  of  an  infant  affected  with  obliquity  of  vision,  who  would  thus  be 
compelled  to  look  straight  before  him.  It  was  probably  the  adoption  of 
this  ingenious  contrivance,  (which,  but  for  the  instance  in  the  text,  Ave 
should  hardly  liave  thought  would  succeed,  except  with  children  without 
hands,  or  much  less  restless  than  any  we  ever  begot,)  it  was  probably 
the  adoption  of  tiiis  contrivance  which  has  given  the  hero  tJiat  remarka- 
ble sharpness  of  vision,  which  we  can  only  describe,  to  those  who  have 
not  had  the  felicity  of  seeing  him,  as  a  gi mid-expression,  or  by  compar- 
ing it  to  the  glowworm-glimmer  in  tlie  eye  of  that  very  respectable,  and 
philosophical  animal,  which  we  may  observe,  in  the  kcimels,  so  generous- 
ly employed  in  removing  the  garbage  and  ordure  that  would  otherwise 
offend  us.  It  is  a  shrewd  terebracious  sort  of  twinkle,  possessed  by  no 
other  eye  in  creation,  except  that  of  the  animal  we  have  mentioned,  and 
the  visual  orbs  of  some  millions  of  peculiar  beings  of  congenial  disposi- 
tion and  equal  intellectual  capacity.         *  * 

202-205.  T/1CIJ  rnhWd  the  hardened  ridge  to  allay  the  itch,  —  Jf'ith  pig's 
brains  and  the  milk  —  etc.  etc.]  "  There  are  many  remedies,  which  di- 
vers persons  assert  have  a  particular  property  to  help  the  cutting  of  the 
teeth,  as  rubbing  them  with  bitches'  milk,  hares'  or  pigs'  brains,  and  hang- 


CANTO   FOURTH.  239 

How  too,  the  child  to  scare  from  childish  tipple, 
When  Nurse  put  mourning  on  her  russet  nipple. 
The  dauntless  godling  still  admir'd  the  teat, 
Till  his  lips  found  the  bitter  of  the  cheat. 
More  to  divulge  the  modest  Muse  denies,  210 

And,  blushing,  spreads  both  hands  before  her  eyes. 
This  only  may  she  add:  —  the  nurse,  't  is  told, 
Was  amorous,  and  had  hair  like  ruddy  gold. 
Hence,  with   his   milk,  the   suckling  drew,    though 

meek, 
A  love  of  ladies,  and  satiric  pique.  215 

ing  a  viper's  tooth  about  the  neck  of  the  child,  and  other  such  like 
trifles,  etc." 

Mauriceau,  by  Chamberlen,  who  observes  of  the  pigs'  brains,  that 
"  they  may  and  do  soften  the  gums."     (p.  34(5,  8th  ed.)         *  * 

203.  —  still  admir'd  the  teat,]  It  is  delightful  to  find,  that  even  at  this 
tender  age  the  hero  showed  himself  superior  to  vulgar  prejudice.  We 
have  seen  that  the  color  of  the  skin  makes  no  difierence  with  the  liberal 
RuBETA,  (Canto  iii.  v.  2r'9,  and  note,)  except  it  be  that  he  prefers  the 
deep  grain  Sietta's  houries  boast :  in  accordance  with  which  preference 
many  editions  read  "  more  admir'd"  for  the  phrase  in  the  text.         *  * 

215.  A  love  of  ladies,  and  satiric  pique.]  Rapix  thinks  that  his  primi- 
tive nursing-mother,  the  goat,  had  more  to  do  with  the  first  of  these 
qualities,  or  propensities,  than  the  red-haired  nurse.  For  the  last,  it 
will  surprise  the  reader;  who  will  hardly  believe  that  so  gentle  and  un- 
offending a  being  could  have  any  thing  like  pique  or  sarcasm  in  his  dis- 
position. But  we  have  it  twice  on  his  own  authority.  Thus,  speaking  of 
his  first  impressions  of  animal  magnetism,  he  says  (p.  7)  :  "I  was  not 
only  an  unbeliever,  but  a  satirist  of  the  whole  affair."  We  know  that  it 
will  be  said,  by  those  who  differ  from  us,  that  this  is  merely  Rubeta's 
peculiar  phraseology,  and  is  the  same  as  in  ordinary  language  would  be 
termed,  a  satirizer  of  the  whole  affair;  but  then  we  have  that  magnifi- 
cent passage  (pp.  54,  55)  which  we  have  quoted  at  v.  628,  629,  of  the 
preceding  Canto.         *  * 


240  TIIL   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

But  lo  !   the  hero  wean'd.     The  nurse  yet  stay'd  ; 
For   SciPio's  sake    't  is   thonglit,  —  the   babe's,  she 

said. 
Rather  than  leave  that  dear,  cherubic  face. 
She  'd  stoop,  though  loath,  and  take  black  Judith's 

place  ; 
Her  pay,  one  monthly  pound  and  daily  feed;  220 

Her  pleasure  all,  to  teach  the  darling  read. 

Christina  spoke  ;  and  from  that  hour,  't  is  clear, 
No  hand  but  Christy's  catechiz'd  his  rear: 

Ver.  219. —  black  Judith  —  ]  The  sister  of  Scipio,  as  we  have  seen 
in  a  preceding  verse  : 

"  JuDE,  take  my  place,  for  fear  the  baby  cry."  *  * 

220.  — pound  —  ]  Two  dollars  and  a  half.  In  the  days  of  Rubeta's 
infancy,  all  calculations  were  made  in  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence  ;  nor 
is  the  practice  yet  wholly  abolished,  thanks  to  the  mint,  which  still  allows 
the  old  Spanish  jxal  and  soldo  to  circulate,  though,  for  all  the  purposes 
of  money,  our  national  coin  is  the  best,  as  being  the  simplest  of  compu- 
tation, in  the  world.*         *  * 

222.  Christina  —  ] 

Tu  quoque  litoribus  nostris,  ^Eneia  nutrix, 
^ternam  moriens  famam,  Caieta,  dedisti, 
says  Virgil  (.^n.  vii.  1,  2).     With  a  like  gratitude,  the  modern  ^.neas 
has  consecrated  the  memory  of  his  foster  mother,  the  red-haired  daugh- 
ter of  Vulgarity  ;  for  who  else  can  be  "  the  fair  Christina  "  that  figures 
in  his  Taks  and  Sketches  ?     See  note  to  v.  65.         *  * 

And  the  young  Dutchman  therefore  "who  was  inaccessible  to  wak- 
ing visions  of  bliss,  etc."  was  the  gallant  Scipio  !  What  a  privilege  is 
theirs,  the  great  men  who  thus  immortalize  their  favorites  !     Corr. 

223.  jYo  hand  but  Christi)\s'  catechiz'd  his  rear,'\     The  extent  of  Rube- 

*  Not  to  say  tliat  any  inequality  we  can  level  in  the  customs  of  the  several  States 
makes  the  structure  of  the  Union  still  more  stable.  At  present,  a  person  who  goes 
from  our  own  pari  of  ihc  country  lo  the  Stale  of  New  York,  from  New  York  to 
Pennsylvania,  from  Pennsylvania  lo  the  Southern  Stales,  feels  that  he  is  a 
stranger,  and  is  perceived  lo  be  such,  the  moment  he  enters  a  shop.  In  cents  we  are 
one  people,  but  in  pence  we  are  a  league.  *  * 


CANTO   FOURTH.  241 

She  mark'd  tlie  book  ;  she  shapVl  his  accents  wild ; 
And,  wlien   he   slaughter'd   sense,   't   was   Christy 
smil'd.  225 

Swart  SciPio  added  many  a  greasy  jest. 
For  still  the  boy  lov'd  oral  wisdom  best. 
Nay,  books  would  throw  him  often  into  rage. 
Then  would  he  reach,  to  tear  the  slabber'd  page, 
Or  scratch  the  letters  with  his  dirt-grim'd  nails.     230 
Except  his  nurse's  book  of  smutty  tales. 
This,  from  the  first,  he  took  in  better  part  ; 
And  when  his  Helot  breech  was  taught  to  smart. 
He  threw  his  Reader  by,  and  got  them  all  by  heart. 

ta's  learning  is  therefore  no  longer  to  be  wondered  at,  though  universal 
as  the  21st  verse  of  the  7th  chapter  of  Ezra,  —  which  comprises  the  en- 
tire alphabet.         ** 

226.  Swart  Scipio  added  many  a  greasy  jesl :  ]  Of  which  the  influence 
is  still  seen.  See  the  ^V*.  Y.  Comm.  Adv.  once  or  twice  a  week  ;  or,  for 
the  present,  the  examples  in  Canlo  1st,  at  v.  515,  51G;  also  in  Canto  4th, 
at  V.  713.  When  a  man  takes  the  trouble  to  cull  such  flowers  to  dec- 
orate the  table  of  his  ordinary,  his  love  for  Flora  (everybody  knows 
what  the  rites  of  this  goddess  were,  and  by  what  sort  of  persons  they 
were  celebrated,)  must  be  strong  indeed.  But,  early  imbued  from  the 
source  above-named  with  a  love  of  facetiousness,  or  having  it  innate 
from  his  goddess-mother,  it  Avould  be  difficult  for  Rubeta  to  resist  an 
occasion  for  its  indulgence ;  and  it  will  be  seen  anon  that  this  delightful 
pleasantry  of  disposition  is  one  of  the  hero's  chief  characteristics. 

Anon. 

231.  Except  his  7mrse\'}  hook  of  smutty  tales.]  Consult  the  references 
of  the  last  note.         *  * 

233,  234.  Jlnd  ivhen —  etc.  etc.]  A  degree  of  spirit  which  foreshadow- 
ed the  future  hero  of  the  vaults,  of  whom  the  Abbess  said : 

Blest,  who  dar'st  fathom  any  jakes  profound,  etc. ! 

Canto  iii.  v.  414.  *  * 

234.  —  Reader  —  ]  Rom.  cd.  Grammar  :  less  correctly  :  for  it  is  evi- 
dent, that  the  hero  never  ojjencd  a  grammar  in  his  life ;  not  to  say  that 

:3i 


242  THE    VISIOiN   OF   RUBETA. 

Now,  when  tlie  Grand  Absurd  to  age  was  grown,  235 
And  his  red  muzzle  glisten'd  with  the  down, 
His  mother,  Dulness,  started  from  her  rest, 
And  thus  her  handmaid  Impudence  address'd  :  — 

Go,  favor'd  of  thy  mistress,  seek  my  son, 
Thy  heart's  most  cherish'd  darling,  as  our  own.      840 
Fill'd  with  his  sire's  gay  spirit,  mix'd  with  mine, 
And  radiant  with  the  sparkling  grace  of  thine, 
Rich  too  in  gifts  his  birthday-friends  bestow. 
Cant's  honey  drawl,  Hypocrisy's  smooth  brow, 
With  all  those  minor  charms,  of  head  and  heart,    245 
Christina's  care  and  Scipio's  lore  impart. 
Now  is  he  ripe  to  take  the  part  which  Fate 
Assigns  him,  and  assume  my  sceptred  state, 
Rule  o'er  Manhattan's  imbecile  and  blind. 
And  be  to  it  what  I  am  to  mankind.  250 

the  daughter  of  Vulgarity  Avould  liardly  be  the  one  to  teach  it,  even 
Avere  she  able.     Nainnius. 

Reader,  unquestionably :  for  what  should  a  genius  do  with  grammar  ? 

^-  * 

235.  —  Grand  Ahsiud —  ]  Considered  by  all  the  commentators,  with 
one  dissenting  voice,  as  the  proper  title  of  the  heir-apparent  of  Levity 
and  DuLNKSs  (see  note  on  v.  255) ;  but  that  dissenting  voice  is  the  voice 
of  Jos.  ScALiGER,  Avho  regards  the  expression  simply  as  prospectively 
indicative  of  Rubeta's  greatness;  like  the  title  hero,  which  is  applied 
to  him  while  yet  at  the  breast.         *  * 

236,236.  J\roio  when  the  Grand  Absurd  to  age  was  grown,  —  And  his 
red  muzzle,  glistened  with  the  down,]  By  which  it  appears,  that  the  hero 
attained  not  to  puberty  till  his  one-and-twentieth  year ;  a  slowness  of 
growth  to  be  expected,  considering  the  womb  from  which  he  sprung, 
and  that  at  five  years  he  was  yet  at  the  breast,  and  in  the  semi-sentient 
state  of  a  newly-littered  puppy.  Some,  however,  make  the  second  line 
of  the  distich  but  an  amplification  of  the  first,  and  read  : 

And  bristled  on  his  cheek  the  yellow  down.  *  * 


CANTO  FOURTH.  243 

The  Mighty  Mother  said,  nor  adding  more, 
Sunk  on  her  couch,  and  soon  was  heard  to  snore. 

But  the  pert  goddess  win^i'd  lier  eag(>r  (light 
Swift  through  the  void,  till  Hudson  saw  her  light 
Where  on  his  banks  the  full-grown  infant  lay,        255 
And  gaz'd,  with  darken'd  eyes,  his  soul  away. 
All  as  a  dame  who  liv'd  the  homestead  nigh. 
By  jealous  neighbours  mark'd  with  scornful  eye, 
Th'  immortal  stood  ;  in  dress,  in  paint  the  same, 
She  look'd  a  w^orn-out  mother  of  the  game.  2G0 

Thrice  his  patch'd  breeches  and  her  sli])per  meet, 
Ere  rose  the  hero  to  his  shoeless  feet : 
When  thus  began  the  daughter  of  Conceit:  — 

Ver.  251.  The  Mighty  Mother  —  ]  A  term  borrowed  from  Dryden,  and 
applied  to  this  same  divinity,  by  Pope. 

255.  —  infant  —  ]  Great  dispute  exists  with  regard  to  this  term  :  some, 
consider  it  as  applied  to  the  hero  as  heir  to  the  joint  empire  of  Lev- 
ity and  DuLNEss,  and  write  it  therefore  with  a  capital  /;  while  others  in- 
sist, that  it  alludes  to  his  perfect  innocence,  and  the  virginal  vacuity  of 
his  mind,  at  this  period  of  life  :  though  how  this  latter  sense  can  accord 
with  what  his  imperial  mother  has  said  of  the  prince  immediately  above 
is  not  easily  seen.  Perhaps  it  is  only  intended  to  allude  to  his  freedom 
from  all  practical  vice  at  this  first  stage  of  manliood,  or  to  the  seeming 
nature  of  liis  amusement,  as  at  the  moment  when  the  messenger-goddess 
finds  him  ;  for  though  really  rapt  in  the  most  sublime  of  contemplations, 
and  in  the  most  studious  of  abstractions,  yet  externally  this  would  not 
appear,  and  we  find  that  even  the  goddess,  in  her  assumed  character, 
addresses  him  reproachfully.  Perhaps,  after  all,  it  would  be  better  to 
read,  with  Valla, 

Jf  here  on  his  mountnin-hanlcs  the  hero  lay.      *  * 

256.  ^nd  gaz'd,  ivith  darkened  eyes,  his  soul  aivay.]  As  described  in 
V.  19  —22:  a  partial  abstraction  which  we  cannot  condemn  as  idle,  since 
to  it  the  world  is  indebted  for  its  highest  model  of  the  sublime  and  its 
most  bewitching  pattern  of  the  beautiful.         *  * 

260.  She  looked  a  ivorn-onl  mother  of  the  game.]  Here  we  have  the 
gotldess  usurping  the  part  of  her  sister,  as  is  told  in  v.  53.         *  * 


244  'I'HK  VISION  or  rlbeta. 

For  shame  !  so  great  a  boy,  and  loll  supine  ! 
I  would  do  something  were  my  limbs  as  thine.      265 

Responsive  star'd  the  youth,  so  soft  a  stare 
The  goddess  would  have  kiss'd  him,  did  she  dare, 
But  simply  tapp'd  his  fuzzy,  sun-burnt  cheek  :  — 
Fortune,  (she  adds,)  my  son,  is  still  to  seek. 
Would'st  like  to  cat  white  bread,  to  roll  in  riches,  27o 
And  have  an  unpatch'd  bottom  to  thy  breeches  ? 

Darn'd  if  I  won't !  (the  ready  wit  reply'd  ;) 
And  many  another  handsome  thing  beside. 

Ver.  262.  —  shoeless  fed  ;]  Not,  as  the  miracle  of  learning  *  would  liave 
it,  in  allusion  to  the  neglected  and  vagabond  condition  of  the  hero's 
youth,  but  as  simply  indicating  the  simplicity  of  those  early  times,  (of 
which,  alas!  few  vestiges  remain,  even  in  the  villages  of  Ulster,) 
when  people  threw  no  broken  bottles  in  the  road,  and  shoes,  as  an  un- 
necessary protection,  were  considered  an  effeminating  luxury.        ** 

267.  —  kissed  him,  did  she  da?-e,]  In  the  copy  left  by  Sanadon,  and 
now  in  the  King's  library  at  Paris,  there  is  a  marginal  note,  in  which 
that  able  Jesuit  observes,  that  the  liero's  face  was  probably  too  dirty,  as 
is  commonly  the  case  with  idle  boys.  We  would  rather,  however,  con- 
sider it  an  awful  reverence,  on  the  part  of  the  goddess,  which  would  not 
permit  her  to  take  a  liberty  with  the  person  of  the  son  and  heir  of  her 
superior,  whom  she  saw  already,  in  anticipation,  invested  with  the  high 
honors  to  which  he  afterwards  attained.         *  * 

If  wc  may  be  permitted  the  correction,  such  a  feeling  could  never 
possibly  bo  known  to  the  pert  daughter  of  Conceit  and  Ignorance. 
She  probably  refrained  because  she  was  disguised  in  no  very  attractive 
person,  if  we  may  judge  from  what  is  said  in  v.  2()0,  and  though  Rubeta 
may,  at  that  early  day,  have  glowed  with  much  of  the  ardor  which 
inflames  his  maturer  age  towards  tlie  lovely  of  Eve's  daughters,  it  is 
questionable  whether  he  had  ever  any  particular  partiality  to  the  old, 
the  "  past  age,"  as  he  calls  them  in  the  "  Visit."     Cork. 

Ver.  272.  Darned  —  ]  An  elegant  mode  of  asseveration  used  by  Rubeta, 
and  probably  derived  from  his  intimacy  Avith  the  lover  of  Christina. 

*Salmasius.  The  titulary  panegyric  of  a  iriendly  contemporary,  himself  of  no  vul- 
gar erudition.  *  * 


CANTO   FOURTH.  245 

Hie  to  Manhattan  then  :  there  learn  what 's  life  : 
Not  tj'd  for  ever  to  a  herdsman's  wife.  275 

If  he  thou  deem'st  thy  sire  should  say  thee  nay, 
Take  up  thy  sack,  and  fairly  run  away. 

That  's   what    Scip    says.     How   monstrous   like 
you  be  ! 
Only  you  're  fair,  and  twice  as  fine  as  he. 

Ah  !    (cry'd  the   pert   transform'd,  o'ercome   with 
joy,)  280 

How  all  his  mother  festers  in  this  boy  ! 
Know,  lovely  offspring  of  an  endless  line, 
No  common  fate  of  vulgar  life  is  thine. 
Go  seek  the  mighty  city.     This  I  swear. 
There  crawls  no  dirty  thing  shall  match  thee  there!  285 
Yet  should  thy  mother  fail  thee,  in  that  hour 
Invoke  Hypocrisy  and  Cant's  twin  power  : 
Their  aid,  thy  father's  blood,  shall  be  enough 
To  prove  thee  fashion'd  of  right  vulgar  stuff. 

For  an  example  in  the  most  ornate  of  his  compositions,  see  tlie  scene  we 
have  cited  at  v.  511,  512,  513,  Canto  iii.         *  * 

lb.  —  if  I  iconH  !  —  ]  Beivtley,  to  plaster  Priscian,  would  amend 
the  line  thus : 

Darii'd  if  1  wouldn't  then !  the  ivit  reply^d. 
See  the  note  to  v.  234.         *  * 

282.  —  endless  line,  ]     {.  e.  immortal. 

Vet.  Schol. 

Endless  line,  i.  e.,  the  race  of  fools. 

Britannicus. 

The  learned  Italian  evidently  regards  the  dialogue  between  Impu- 
dence and  her  fosterchild  as  belonging  to  that  allegory,  to  which  all 
machinery  may  be  reduced  where  it  is  not  defective,  the  Dignus  vin- 
dice  nodus  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding.         *  * 

Ver.  283.  —  thyfather^s  blood,  —  ]    Levity  is  at  this  very  day  the  chief 


246  THE    VISION    OF   RUIJETA. 

Go,   court   success ;  thank   Heaven   thou  'rt  void  of 
brain ;  290 

What  gravels  otlicr  knaves  shall  prove  thy  gain. 

Cant,  quibble,  lie,  recant ;   be  not  afraid  ; 

DuLNESS  shall  save  thee,  Impudence  will  aid. 
She  said,  leap'd  o'er  a  stump,  and,  swift  as  light. 

Shot    through   the   furze,   and    straight   was   out   of 
sight.  295 

Bewilder'd,  gaz'd  the  youth  with  all  his  eyes ; 

He  marvell'd  much  to  find  a  frock  so  wise ; 

But  watch'd  its  motions  as  it  clear'd  the  stump, 

And  knew  the  goddess  by  her  quivering  rump. 

Why  what  a  witch!   (he  cry'd:)    To  Scip  I'll  hie;  300 

And  if  he  bid  me,  —  father  mine,  good-bye  ! 

ingredient  in  tlie  compositions  of  this    wonderful  and  various  being. 
See,  usqueqiuique,  N.  Y.  Comm.  Adv.         *  * 

290.  —  Ihank  Heafrn  —  ]  Bentley  tliinks  this  a  very  strange 
expression  for  Impudence,  and  proposes  to  read,  for  '■  Heaven,"  Fate. 
We  think  quite  the  contrary,  —  that  it  is  the  very  expression  Lmpudeis-ce 
would  be  most  likely  to  use.  And,  after  all,  it  is  saying-  no  more  than 
thmik  your  stars ;  for  wliy  sliould  the  daugliter  of  Conceit  and  Ig.no- 
RANCE  use  that  seriously  wliich  nobody  else  ever  thinks  of  so  doing? 

800.  —  witch  —  ]  J.  C^s.  ScALiGER  would  spell  this  word  with 
h :  but,  besides  that  such  an  expression  would  be  quite  out  of  character 
with  RuBETA,  who  we  cannot  doubt  displayed  the  same  reverential  at- 
tachment, thougli  in  a  minor  degree,  to  the  sex  in  his  youth,  that  we  see 
give  beauty  and  grace  to  his  riper  years,  (for  we  have  found  the  ele- 
ments of  every  other  quality  of  his  manhood  very  plainly  at  work  in  his 
infancy  and  adolescence,)  besides  this,  unless  we  retain  the  reading  in 
the  text,  what  becomes  of  the  assertion  in  the  preceding  line  ?  for  that 
the  word  goddess,  there  used,  is  perfectly  synonomous  with  witch,  must 
appear  to  every  one  who  reflects  that  the  youth's  instructors  were  Chris- 
tina and  Scipio  only.         *  * 


CANTO   FOURTH.  247 

But  sire  and  dam  the  impelling  Fates  obey, 
And  speed  the  future  newsman  on  his  way. 
Two  shirts,  a  hat,  a  razor  lor  his  lip. 
And  three  clipp'd  shillings  in  a  dog-skin  scrip,        305 
A  pair  of  brogues  that  lov'd  his  ample  feet, 
And  lo !   Loraii\a's  destin'd  dupe  complete  ! 
His  bran-new  kersey  not  became  him  more, 
Than  did  his  form  the  kersey  which  it  wore  : 
If  to  his  share  some  female  errors  fall,  3io 

Look  on  his  back,  and  you  '11  forget  them  all. 

300.  —  to  Sap  I  HI  hie.']  Beautiful  and  affecting  trait  of  gratitude ! 
"wliich  could  only  have  been  displayed  by  our  Manhattanese  J^neas, 
He  forgets  not,  in  his  puberty  and  adolescence,  the  friend  of  his  child- 
hood, but  flies  to  consult  him  in  the  very  first  dilemma.         *  * 

lb.  —  Why  ivhat  a  wilch!  etc.  —  ]  As  this  is  the  last  sample,  with 
which  we  are  indulged,  of  the  hero's  juvenile  dialogue,  we  cannot  quit  it 
without  remarking  upon  the  extraordinary  simplicity,  and  infantile  inno- 
cence, it  developes  in  the  "  god-born  "  at  one-and-twenty  :  in  whose 
language  through  this  entire  scene  we  discover  the  seeds,  as  it  were,  of 
that  elegant,  yet  unaffected  oratory,  which  distinguishes  the  well-known 
lecturer,  and  the  sublime  author  of  the  Mysterioxis  Bridal.         *  * 

30-2.  —  sire  and  dam  —  ]  That  is,  the  herdsman  and  his  wife.  What 
a  satisfaction  this  must  have  been  to  the  pious  feelings  of  the  young 
Trojan,  who  otherwise  would  have  found  himself  forced  to  go  without 
it,  and  without  the  advantage  of  the  handsome  outfit  inventoried  in  the 
subsequent  verses !         *  * 

306.  —  lov^d  —  ]     SubobscurL     Lege,  meo  periculo,  wrung. 

Grj.vius. 

307.  And  lo !  Lovaina's  deslhi'd  dupe  complete !  ]  We  are  disposed 
to  consider  this  an  interpolation,  written  over  an  obliterated  passage  : 
the  more  so,  that  Pieiuus  assures  us,  that  all  the  ancient  editions  have, 

Jlnd  lo  !  the  god-horn,  goddess-nursed,  complete ! 
and  we  are  told  that  the  Cod.  Passamaq.,  the  most  perfect  MS.  yet  dis- 
covered, has  the  line  distinctly  written  thus  : 

Jind  lo  !   the  god-born  pilgrim  stands  complete  !         *  * 


248  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Even  SciPio's  self  admir'd  the  long-tail'd  coat, 
And  shouted  when  he  saw  his  clium  afloat. 

The  fare  is  paid  ;  the  lierdsman  bids  adieu  ; 
Swift-flashing  from  the  wharf,  the  thundering  steam- 
er flew.  315 

Pleas'd  Impudence,  array 'd  in  porter's  guise, 
Perch'd  on  a  log,  the  fated  voyage  eyes. 
Red  Vulcan  sweated  at  each  dripping  wheel, 
And  the  glad  Naiads  urg'd  the  roaring  keel. 

Now  DuLNESS,  careful  mother^  upside  down       3-20 
Had  turn'd  the  brainpan  of  an  Orange  clown. 
Who,  thus  befogg'd,  an  evening  print  had  bought. 
To  pass  the  hours,  innocent  of  thought. 
Egg'd  by  his  mother's  busy  go-between, 
(Who  o'er  her  boy  now  hover'd,  though  unseen,)   325 
His  heels  the  god-born  laid  athwart  a  stool, 
And  begg'd  the  paper  of  his  brother-fool. 

Ver.  310,  311.  If  to  his  share — etc.  ]     Pope. 

If  to  her  share  some  female  errors  fall, 
Look  on  Iicr  face,  and  yon  '11  forget  them  all. 

Rape  of  the  L.  Cto.  ii.  17,  18. 
311.  Look  on  his  back,]  Not  because  of  the  coat,  as  some  have  idly 
conjectured.     The  back  of  the  hero  is  in  that  interesting  condition,  in 
wliicli  ladies  wish  to  be  who  are  lawfully  married  :  his  shoulder,  as  Biron 
says,**  is  with  child.     Some  editions,  however,  read  mouth,  others  eyes. 
All  three  expressions  arc  equally  good,  and  for  an  equal  reason.     *  * 
322.  —  befogg'd  —  ]     Not  English,  I  think,  though  analogical.      *  * 
326.  His  heels  —  alhicaii  a  stool,  ]     The  approved  fashion,  in  every 
country,  with  the  nurslings    of  the  daughter  of  Conceit  and  Ignor- 
ance, and  by  them  mistaken  for  independence.     Whence  Mrs.  Trol- 

*  Love's   Labor's   Lost,  A.  iv.  Sc.  3. 


CANTO   FOUllTil.  249 

O  who  may  tell  the  immortal  youth's  surprise, 
The  joy  which  now  Hash'd  cinders  from  his  eyes! 
Not  lover  when  he  finds  his  mistress  warm,  330 

Not  rag-wrapt  rascal  shelter'd  from  a  storm. 
Not  Colon  when  he  made  the  land  ahead. 
Not  twinning  mothers  safely  brought  to  bed, 
Not  Flaccus,  when,  by  King's  dogmatic  nod. 
He  found  himself  a  rhymster  spite  of  God,  335 

Such  transport  of  delight  can  feel,  e'er  felt. 
As  thrill'd  the  immortal  when  the  news  he  spelt : 
For  here  he  found  such  ribaldry  in  use, 
Such  wholesale  falsehood,  such  obscene  abuse, 
Right  set  at  naught,  and  decency  defy'd,  340 

He  deem'd  he  listen'd  while  his  SciPio  ly'd. 
This  !   (said  he  to  himself,)  this  !   be  to  me 
Pattern  and  guide  !     My  trade  I  see,  I  see  ! 

LOPFE  and  congeners,  who,  by  reason  of  the  very  general  habit  of  tra- 
velling among  us,  and  the  uniformity  of  prices,  saw  more  of  that  class 
in  America  than  tliey  could  possibly  meet  in  their  own  country,  where 
the  people  are  less  locomotive,  and  steamboats  are  not  democratized, 
would  have  it  to  be  an  elegance  peculiar  to  republican  citizens.  *  * 

3-27.  — brother-fool.]  The  remark  made  at  v.  307  applies  here,  but 
we  have  not  the  same  means  of  correcting  the  text.        *  * 

334.  —  Flaccus  —  ]  A  ridiculous  contributor  to  the  N.  Y.  American, 
of  whom  by  and  by. 

343.  —  .My  trade,  etc.  ]  Not  of  an  editor ;  for,  as  it  will  presently  ap- 
pear, it  was  some  time  before  his  ambition  ventured  such  a  flight :  he 
read  with  wonder  the  delightful  scurrility  of  the  paper,  which  was  pro- 
bably some  leading  political  journal,  (for  in  those  days  the  parties  of 
Federalists  and  Democrats  ran  furiously  high,  and  were,  if  possible, 
more  inveterate  in  abuse  of  each  other,  than  the  present  Whig  and 
Tory  factions,  so  called  ;)  he  read  ;  and  he  admired  an  art  which  enables 
32 


250  THE   VISION   or   RUBETA. 

O  tedious  bark  I    AVhen,  when  shall  I  begin  ! 

Spit  at  Discretion,  and  set  types  for  Sin  !  345 

Pleas'd  heard  the  hovering  Spirit,  softly  smil'd, 
Breath'd  all  her  virtues  on  her  foster-child, 
Her  mission  done,  the  vapor-float  forsook, 
And  cross'd  the  Hudson  in  a  cloud  of  smoke, 
Skimm'd  o'er  the  cities  and  the  fields  of  men,        350 
Till  rcach'd  the  town  of  pertinacious  Penn, 
Then  whirl'd  through  Seventh  and  broad   Chestnut 

streets, 
And  once  more  nestled  in  her  Waldie's  sheets. 

Fast  by  the  dike,  where  frown  the  granite  eaves 
or  the  huge  dome  Manhattan  rears  for  thieves,   355 


men  to  put  sucli  things  on  paper  ;  and  from  this  hour  his  fate  was  sealed, 
and  the  future  newsman  determined  to  turn  compositor,  or  at  least  to 
play  the  devil.  From  such  trivial  causes  the  mightiest  events  in  the 
lives  of  all  great  men  deduce  their  ultimate  origin  ;  even  as  the  sources 
of  the  largest  rivers  are  the  slender  rivulet,  and  the  little  noisy  torrent, 
which  wear  themselves  an  humble  channel  beneath  the  shadows  of  the 
mountain-forest.         *  * 

34-2-345.  This!  said  he  to  himself,  etc.]  We  may  observe  here  the 
effect  of  inspiration.  He,  who  but  a  day  or  two  back  was  but  a  boy  and 
talked  of  Scip,  now,  inflamed  by  the  prospect  of  his  glorious  art,  takes 
upon  him  the  language  of  a  man,  and  shares,  for  the  moment,  the  power 
of  expression  which  passion  gives  to  the  most  vulgar  spirit.  Therefore 
Rapin,  when  he  condemns  this  passage  as  unnatural,  inconsistent  with 
the  language  of  the  youthful  hero,  and  totally  at  variance  with  the 
horsepond-calmness  of  all  his  after  life,  forgets  tliat  the  character  is  uni- 
form, though  its  aberrations  are  diversely  colored.  It  is  the  consistent 
inconsistency  which  Aristotle  speaks  of  and  Nature  e.xcmplifies.      *  * 

3o5.  —  huge  dome  Manbattan  rears  for  thieves.]  The  not  unstately 
pile,  more  like  a  castle  than  a  prison,  now  in  course  of  building  on  the 
site  of  the  old  Collect.     Here  run  the  common  sewers  of  the  city. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  251 

A  range  of  filthy  dvvelliiighouses  stood, 

Fac'd    with    dull    brick,    and    bridg'd    with    steps  of 

wood. 
Here,  in  chalk'd  spaces,  seven  feet  by  four, 
Crowd  various  families  a  common  floor ; 
The  night's  straw  sack  their  musty  couch  by  day,  ^a) 
While  on  the  loathsome  plank  their   broken   victuals 

lay. 
Dogs,  cats,  and  children  in  one  litter  cry. 
And  mud-cak'd  pigs  encroach  upon  the  sty. 
Without,  all  wreck  and  nastiness  ;  within, 
Starvation,  sickness,  vermin,  stench,  and  sin.  3g5 

Such  hives  as  still  are  found,  with  ev'n  less  room, 
In  Laurens-street,  the  southern  side  of  Broom  ; 

Ver.  359  -  359.  Here,  in  chalked  spaces,  seven  feet  hy  four,  —  Crowd  vari- 
ous families  a  common  floor  ;]  Many  years  ago,  Avhen  the  Editor  was  a 
resident  of  New  York,  a  committee  of  physicians  was  appointed  to  in- 
vestigate the  causes  of  an  epidemic  fever  which  then  raged  in  Bancker- 
street.  In  the  course  of  their  report,  they  stated  that,  in  many  of  the 
houses,  there  were  various  fimilies  living  in  one  common  room,  where 
the  particular  portion  of  the  floor  allotted  to  each  tribe  of  occupants  was 
marked  off  in  chalk,  and  that  one  or  two  of  these  families  even  took 
boarders !  That  such  wretchedness  has  once  existed  is  a  good  reason 
for  supposing  that  it  exists  always,  to  a  certain  extent,  everywhere  as 
its  causes  are,  like  disease,  one  of  the  heirlooms  of  humanity:  therefore 
though  that  nest  is  broken  up,  and  Banckor-street  no  more  exists  in 
name,  there  are  no  doubt  many  places  within  the  locality  of  the  Five 
Points  which  would  physic  pomp*  most  effectually.         *  * 

*  Take  physic  Pomp  ; 


Expose  thyself  to  feel  what  wretches  feel ; 
That  thou  may'st  shake  the  superflux  to  them, 
And  show  the  heavens  more  just. 

K.  Lear.  A.  iii.  Sc.  4.  Cork. 


252  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Their  common  sign,  the  walls  one  beastlj  stain 
And  an  old  hat  stuck  in  a  shatter'd  pane. 

Here,  in  a  garret,  near  the  close  of  day,  370 

Stretch'd  on  his  straw,  the  incarnate  Dulness  lay. 
Seven  years  he  'd  dabbled  at  Corseilles's  trade, 
Each  year  advanc'd,  yet  still  had  nothing  made  ; 
And  now  his  term  was  up,  gone  was  his  place, 
And  ruin  star'd  him  in  the  very  face.  375 

His  beauteous  brows  contracted  in  a  frown. 
The  lovely  angles  of  his  mouth  turn'd  down, 
His  eyes  suffus'd  like  green  ditch  in  a  calm. 
And  cheek  indented  by  his  smutty  palm. 
He  look'd,  o'erwhelm'd  with  economic  woes,  380 

More  dull  than  Robert  Owen's  woodcock-nose. 

Ver.  373.  —  had  nothing  made  ;]  How  then  had  he  advanced  ?  The  ad- 
vancement refers  to  his  grade  as  a  printer,  or  rather  (since  it  will  appear 
presently  he  was  in  no  good  odor  with  his  master),  to  the  regular  in- 
crease of  his  wages  according  to  the  stipulation  in  his  indentures:  his 
making  nothing  is  said  according  to  the  usual  phrase  with  tradesmen 
and  artisans,  when  they  save  nothing  clear  of  their  expenses  ;  ths  youth's 
entire  wages  being  probably  consumed  for  his  lodging,  board,  clothing, 
and  charities.  But  to  this  latter  item  of  his  expenditure  he  owes  his 
resuscitation  and  future  advancement:  so  certainly  are  our  good  deeds 
rewarded  in  this  life,  no  matter  what  the  motives  which  prompted  them. 

A.\ox. 

3S1.  Mo)'e  dull,  etc.]  A  well-known  Parisian  author,  in  his  translation 
of  the  Vision,  has  rendered  this  line, 

Plus  triste  que  le  nez  de  hicasse  d^Owen: 
but,  although  this  is  much  better  than  the  absurd  mistake  of  another 
French  version. 

Plus  triste  que  ne  salt  la  hicnsse  d''Oiven, 
yet  it  is  evident,  to  me,  that  tiio  expression  "  dull "  has  not  been  properly 
understood.     It  is  true,  tliat  the  preceding  lines  of  the  text  would  seem 


CANTO   FOURTH.  253 

'T  was  then  that,  gazing  on  his  minish'd  hoard, 
Where  the  last  fragrant  onion  grac'd  the  board, 
He  thought  on  her  whose  damn'd  advice  he  took, 
And,  sighing,  thus  the  filial  Dulness  spoke  :  —       385 

Was  it  for  this  I  left  my  native  soil : 
To  earn  starvation  by  a  sev'n  years'  toil  ? 
To  eat,  to  doze  all  day,  to  snore  all  night. 
Was  then  my  care,  my  study,  my  delight ; 
While  SciPio's  moral  tales,  and  polish'd  glee,         390 
Made  Sunday  pass  a  happy  day  for  me  : 
But  now,  of  seven,  six  days  I  toil  and  fast. 
And  hear  some  old  dog  preacher  bark  the  last. 
This,  at  the  best.     In  time,  since  wages  fail, 
Satan  may  hear  me  yelp  myself,  in  jail.  395 

Said  not  that  harridan,  in  giglet's  dress. 
That  folly  would  be  sure  to  win  success  ? 


to  assign  to  it  the  sense  of  triste,  but  the  comparison  Avhich  succeeds  it 
intimates,  very  plainly,  that  the  expression  on  tlie  hero's  face  is  termed 
dull,  simply  as  being  such  as  becomes  a  son  of  Dulness.  The  Author's 
note  (below),  upon  the  nose,  confirms  our  opinion.        ** 

381.  —  Robert  Owen's  woodcock-nose.]  Every  sportsman  must  remem- 
ber with  pleasure  this  conspicuous  feature  in  the  visage  of  the  founder 
of  New  Harmony.  It  seemed  to  have  been  given  him  on  purpose  to 
penetrate  and  draw  sustenance  from  the  marshy  grounds  of  metaphys- 
ics, and  his  eyes  appeared  to  watch  the  process  of  speculative  suction 
with  peculiar  satisfaction.  Hence,  nobody  could  look  upon  that  very 
ingenious  person  without  having  the  reasonableness  of  his  doctrines 
stare  him  in  the  very  face.  His  nose  was  like  the  editorial  columns  of  the 
N.  Y.  Commercial  Advertiser,  the  extended  personification  of  self-satis- 
fied stolidity. 

395.  —fdial  Dulness  —  ]     Drtden,  in  MacFlecknoe. 


254  Tin:    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

My  master  every  day  my  task  arraigns, 

And  swears  a  pig  has  twice  my  share  of  brains, 

The  devils  themselves  my  awkward  fingers  note,   400 

Laugh  at  my  blunders,  and  surname  me  Goat^ 

And  lately,  as  I  pass'd  a  neighbouring  school, 

The  children  character'd  my  back  with  Fool. 

Am  I  then  rich  ?     I  scarce  have  bread  to  eat ; 

And  still  my  breeches  show  a  window'd  seat.         405 

False  hag !     But  no ;  she  warn'd  me  of  this  hour. 

"  Invoke  Hypocrisy  and  Cant's  twin  power." 

I  know  not  if  there  be  such  gods  on  high  ; 

But  if  there  be,  such  votary  as  I 

Must  favor  find.     I  '11  try.     1  should  be  willing     4io 

To  call  the  Devil  just  now  for  one  poor  shilling. 

O  thou  !  whatever  title  suits  thee  best. 

Goddess  or  god !  who  wean'dst  me  at  the  breast, 

Taught'st  me  with  screams  new  accidents  to  feign. 

That  sugar  might  relieve  the  fancy'd  pain,  4i5 

And  shap'dst  this   mouth  (through  life   thy  dearest 

charge). 
Where  God  has  written  Hypocrite  in  large  ; 

Ver.  398.  My  master  evenj  day,  —  etc.]  He  was  so  recently  dismissed 
from  his  situation  that  ho  still  speaks  in  the  present  time ;  the  hal)it  of 
his  apprenticeship  being  not  yet  thrown  off,  and  therefore  conveying  to 
his  mind  the  customary  images.         ** 

404, 406.  Am  I  then  rich  ?  etc.]  Alluding  to  the  implied  promises  of  Impu- 
dence, in  the  scene  on  the  bank  of  the  Hudson.     See  V.  270,  271.      ** 

413.  — wean'dst  me  at  the  breast-]  It  is  a  species  of  hypocrisy,  the 
masking  of  the  mother's  nipple  with  soot  to  disgust  the  suckling.       ** 


CANTO   FOURTH.  255 

And  thou  !  her  brother,  or  twin-sister  fair, 

Who    prick'st   my    tongue,    and    tun'st    my   weekly 

pray'r  ! 
All  hail.  Hypocrisy  and  Cant  !  dread  twain  !        420 
Guide  of  these  lips,  while  Dulness  sways  the  brain: 
If,  for  your  sake,  in  fanes  I  've  courted  sleep. 
While  zealots  deem'd  I  cloak'd  my  brow  to  weep ; 
If  seem'd  my  ear  to  drink  the  good  man's  drone, 
W^hile,  to  my  heart,  lov'd  Malice  preach'd  alone  ;  425 
If,  where  the  hallow'd  bread  I  knelt  to  eat, 
I  've  spit  my  venom  on  my  neighbour's  seat, 
Then  hatch'd,  as  home  my  way  demure  I  trod. 
The  plots  concerted  in  the  house  of  God  ; 
O,  if  to  give  your  gracious  power  delight,  430 

My  earnings  vanish'd  in  my  soul's  despite, 
While  Charity  reck'd  little  that  I  ly'd. 
But  took  the  unwilling  tribute  paid  to  Pride  ; 
In  fine,  if  all  my  actions  still  have  been 
Sway'd   by  your  laws,  which   govern'd  though   un- 
seen, 435 


Ver.  423, 429.  Then  hatch'd,  as  home  my  wny  demure  I  trod, — The  plots  con- 
certed in  the  house  of  God  ;]  By  the  comprehension  of  this  distich  in  the 
same  clause  with  the  preceding,  we  are  taught,  that  Rubeta  does  not 
mean  to  say  that  he  actually  went  to  church  to  talk  scandal  (though 
such  a  thing  is  not  improbable),  but  that  he  indulged  himself  by  effusing 
his  spleen  in  petto,  and  on  his  way  home  matured  the  plots  he  had  there 
laid.     Such,  we  may  imagine,  was  at  a  later  day  the  divine  origin  of  the 

aspersion    of  the  characters  of  Mr.  S ,   Mr.   B ,   and    (an  in. 

stance  which  will  be  found  presently  cited)  Lady    .  Akon. 


256  THE  VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

Vouchsafe  tho  aid  was  promis'd  by  that  ronion  ! 
I  cannot  sup  nine  days  on  one  small  onion. 

Scarce  liad  lie  linish'd,  when,  behold  !   the  door, 
On  its  sole  hinge  shrill-screaking,  shaves  the  floor ; 
And  'twixt  the  narrow  posts  two  forms  appear  ;     440 
Both  manlike,  from  the  straiten'd  dress  they  wear  ; 
But  all  the  woman  mantled  in  their  air. 


Ver,  440,  &c.  —  Hwixt  the  narrow  posts  two  forms  appear ;  etc.  etc.]  All 
that  follows,  Avith  regard  to  the  "two  forms,"  Eustathius  sets  down  as 
pure  allegory.  We  cannot  say  of  the  bishop  of  Thessalonica  what  he 
says  of  U1.YSSES,  that  he  tells  a  manifest  flilsehood,  but  he  is  certainly 
very  much  mistaken.  It  was  the  object  of  Dulness  to  prevent  her  son 
from  knowing  his  celestial  origin;  otherwise  he  would  certainly  not  play 
the  part  designed  for  him:  and  we  find  that,  to  this  day,  he  is  ignorant 
that  he  is  any  thing  more  than  an  extraordinary  mortal,  whatever  sus- 
picions, as  has  been  intimated,  he  may  have  to  the  contrary.  Now,  his 
mother's  gossips  had  an  equal  interest  in  maintaining  the  secret;  and 
consequently  they  assume  a  disguise,  as  in  the  text:  foi*,  as  their  nature 
is  essence,  they  could  not  have  been  manifest  to  him  otherwise  than  by  a 
voice  from  the  wall,  or  by  the  intuition  of  animal  magnetism.  Why  tiiey 
did  not  use  this  latter  method  is  evident;  Rubeta's  time  was  not  yet 
come:  why  they  Jiad  not  recourse  to  the  former  may  be  gatlicred  from 
our  argument ;  it  had  disclosed  the  secret.         *  * 

My  son,  wlio,  the  reader  will  retnember,  is  a  stiidenl  of  arts,  and  therefore  conver- 
sanl  Willi  lliis  same  mailer,  assures  us  that  the  editor  is  certainly  playing  the  fool  with 
sober  criticism,  or  otherwise  he  would  never  jumble  a  bishop  of  tlie  twelfth  century  with 
a  tract-distributor  of  the  ninctooiuli  ;  and  that,  however  such  an  anachronism  might 
have  been  winked  at  in  the  I'oil,  (who,  however,  does  not  anywhere  indulge  in  it,)  it 
cannot  be  pardoned  in  a  grave  commentator,  who  has  all  his  wits  about  him,  and  has 
no  business  to  be  playing  tiie  Childe.  He  therefore  argues  that  the  poem  is  all  bur- 
lesque !  !  Good  Heaven  !  can  it  be  possible  ?  We  cannot,  we  will  not,  believe  him  ! 
Whatever  the  faults  of  the  Editor,  no  buffoonery  on  his  part  can  hang  the  bells  on  the 
crowned  head  of  that  sagest  of  sublime  personages,  the  royal  and  pontifical  Rubeta. 

CoRR. 

We  correct  the  revise  by  assuring  tho  prool-readcr  that  his  son,  though 
a  very  good  boy, does  not  understand  what  he  is  talking  about:  neverthe- 
less, we  permit  his  observations  to  remain,  that  we  may  through  them, 
once  for  all,  set  rigiit  those  of  our  readers  who  may  be  disposed  to  think 
that  either  the  Author  or  ourself  are  burlesquing  the  epopee.     The  se- 


CANTO   lOL'HTH.  257 

Portly  and  pursy  one,  with  eyes  demure, 
Cheeks  vermil-red,  and  as  a  vestal's  pure ; 
The  other  gaunt,  and  freckled  like  a  toad,  445 

With  straight  sleek  hair,  and  orbs  that  only  show'd 
Their  jaundic'd  whites  six  hours  out  of  seven, 
The  pupils  roll'd  devoutly  towards  Heaven. 
This  last  the  mouth-piece.      Sweet  his  accents  fall, 
Mix'd  tone  between  a  snivel  and  a  drawl  :  450 

While  sigh'd  his  solemn  mate,  as  sore  distress'd, 
His  heavy  eyelids  ever  low  depress'd. 
And  clasp'd  a  heap  of  pamphlets  to  his  breast ; 
Whereon  the  prentice-newsman's  glance  might  see 
This  legend  printed:  —  Eggs  of  Charity.  455 

They  enter'd  arm  in  arm,  and,  strange  to  tell, 
Though  this  was  plump,  that  merely  bone  and  fell. 
You  scarcely  might  distinguish  one  from  th'  other ! 
For  when   the  silent  spoke,  he  drawl'd  just  like  his 
brother. 

riousness  of  the  poem  is  not  less  indisputable  than  the  virtues  of  its 
hero.         *  * 

465.  — "  Eggs  of  CharUij.^^  ]  The  very  book  whose  title  Rubeta 
carried  in  his  pocket,  and  thence  copied  in  "  a  note  for  the  blind  lady  to 
read,  sealed  with  seven  seals"!  "The  note,"  (he  says,)  "written  and 
printed,  as  we  left  it,  was  in  these  words  :  — '  The  following  is  the  title, 
etc.  :  —  "  Eggs  of  Charity,  laycd  hy  the  Chickens  of  the  Covenant,  and 
boiled  by  the  IValers  of  Divine  Love.  Take  ye  and  eat.''''  '  "  (Comm. 
Adv.  of  Sept.  4,  1837;  and  the  same,  witli  the  alteration  of  the  editorial 
we  for  the  authorial  I,  in  An.  Magn.  p.  53.) 

The  hero  would  therefore  appear  to  have  made  a  memorandum  of  this 
title,  after  the  visit,  and  treasured  it.     Could  the  Monkbarns  of  bibliog- 
raphy have  carried  the  Eggs  in  his  pocket  ever  since  ?        *  * 
33 


258  THE  VISION  of  ruueta. 

Began  the  stranger  of  the  freckled  face  :  —        4G0 
Art  thou  the  apprentice?  he  that  's  in  disgrace  ? 
(The  youth  assented  with  a  flood  of  tears.) 
We  come  for  thy  salvation.     Loose  thy  fears. 
The  wholesome  savor  of  thy  virtues  rare 
Reach'd  us  in  sister  Weasel's  house  of  pray'r  :     465 
How  to  poor  slaves  thy  night-shirt  thou  didst  part ; 
With  other  gracious  quick'nings  of  the  heart. 
Therefore,  a  shining  light  thou  shalt  be  made, 
A  trap  to  Satan,  even  by  thy  trade. 
But  gird  thy  loins  ;  thy  tale  to  us  disclose  :  47o 

No  common  history  that  visage  shows. 

The   goddess  ceas'd  ;    ('t  was  Cant   herself,  dis- 
guis'd  ; 
Her  sister  by ;)  and  thus  the  youth,  advis'd, 

Ver.  470.  But  gird  thy  loins  ;  ]  We  are  not  to  imagine,  from  this  expres- 
sion, that  the  youth's  breeches  were  down,  as  Scioppius  would  teach  us; 
who  indiscreetly  reads,  in  the  second  hemistich,  thy  tale  thou  wilt  expose, 
—  and  thereby,  from  the  ambiguity  of  his  own  construction  (which  may 
either  imply  command,  or  be  considered  as  simply  predicting  an  event,) 
infers  a  double  meaning.  It  is  the  use,  or  rather  the  abuse,  of  scriptural 
language,  in  which  Cant  especially  delights ;  and  the  sense  is,  simply, 
Come,  my  good  fellow,  let  us  have  thy  story  ;  for  appearances  are  deceitful 
indeed,  if  that  scaramouches  visage  of  thine  do  not  promise  us  some  rare 
buffoonery.         *  * 

472,  473.  —  (7  was  Cant  herself,  disguised ;  —  Her  sister  by  ;)]  Thus 
explained,  in  the  language  of  Milton,  and  after  the  practice  of  Ho- 
mer : 

For  spirits,  when  they  please, 

Can  either  sex  assume,  or  both ;  — 
*  #  # 

in  what  shape  they  choose 


CANTO   FOURTH.  259 

His  tale  commenc'd,  while  groan'd  the  bigger  guest, 
And  clasp'd  his  Eggs  still  closer  to  his  breast :  —  475 

From  Pisa,  on  the  Danube's  banks,  I  came ; 
My  sire,  a  mighty  satrap  known  to  fame, 
De  Petra  call'd,  —  of  old  descent;  whose  shield 
Bears  three  brown  pebbles  on  a  silver  field. 

Can  execute  their  airy  purposes, 
And  works  of  love  or  enmity  fulfil. 

Par.  L.  i.  423,  424,  428,  and  430,  431. 

476.  Pisa,  on  the  Daiiuhe's  baiiks,]  It  is  singular,  that  every  sensible 
critic  should  consider  this  error  on  the  part  of  Rubeta  as  the  effect  of 
ignorance,  and  not  the  voluntary  part  of  the  subtilized  dissimulation,  so 
worthy  of  a  great  and  wise  man,  which  the  hero,  an  Ulysses  at  little 
more  than  the  age  of  Telemachus,  displays  at  this  crisis  of  his  mortal 
fate. 

The  word  satrap,  in  the  next  line,  comes  under  the  same  remark.     *  * 

479.  —  brown — ]  There  is  no  such  tincture  in  heraldry.  Read 
therefore  red ;  the  arms  being  probably  blazoned  thus  :  —  Argent,  three 
paving-stones  gules.     Bentlet. 

A  bad  correction.  Rubeta  was  but  then  an  apprentice ;  tlierefore 
had  not  attained  that  universal  knowledge  which  puts  him  since  beyond 
the  chance  of  error.  How  happily,  in  later  days,  his  knowledge  of  blazon 
adds  ornament  and  vigor  to  his  style,  lias  been  frequently  observed  by 
his  admirers.  An  instance,  fresh  in  the  recollection  of  the  readers  of 
his  journal,  is  that  where,  noticing  the  departure  of  the  great  steam- 
vessel  with  the  ridiculous  name,  he  launches  forth,  in  the  spirit  of  Wal- 
ter Scott,  into  the  following  felicity  of  description :  — 

"  From  the  topmast "  [she  has  four]  "  of  the  ship  floated  a  banner,  quartered  with 
the  flags  of  England  and  the  United  States  —  the  stars  of  our  country  being  blended 
with  the  cross  of  St.  George,  on  the  de.cler  poird,  and  the  stripes  occupying  the  ground 
of  the  lower  sinister  quarter." 

Certainly  (not  to  speak  of  the  excellent  English)  the  exactness  of  heraldic 
cant  with  which  he  so  happily  emblazons  the  dexter  and  sinister  quar- 
ters, and  the  variety  which  liis  synonyme  of  point  and  quarter  gives  to  this 
delicious  passage,  most  strikingly  evince  the  truth  of  what  rhetoricians 
have  observed,  that  no  branch  of  knowledge  can  be  superfluous  to  a 
poet,  or,  as  we  might  more  accurately  express  it,  that  tlie  autlior  of  the 
Sepulchre  of  David  should  find  himself  at  liome  on  every  topic.         *  * 

478,  479.  —  whose  shield  —  Bears  three  brown  pebbles  on  a  silver  field.] 


260  THE  VISION  or  rubeta. 

Lib'ral  and  wise,  and  such  by  wide  report,  480 

The  sons  of  Science  ever  throng'd  his  court. 

Among  the  rest,  there  came  a  needy  Gaul  ; 

His  art  unknown  ;  his  work,  a  magic  ball. 

Enormous  globe !  within  whose  silken  round 

The  viewless  winds,  by  wizard  charms,  were  bound. 485 

To  this  a  fragile  osier  car  was  ty'd, 

Prepar'd  for  voyage  in  the  coastless  void. 

I,  who  was  ever  of  a  dauntless  mind. 

Straight  to  the  bark  my  princely  form  consign'd. 

In  vain  my  sire,  in  vain  his  court  oppose.  490 

Up  to  the  clouds  the  wind-borne  shallop  rose. 

How  beautifully  is  truth  mixed  up  with  fiction  in  this  Odyssean  inven- 
tion !  for  can  it  be  doubted  that  this  is  the  very  shield,  the  mysterious 
allusion  to  which  forms  not  one  of  the  least  wonderful  of  the  wonders  of 
the  wondrous  Letter  on  Animal  Magnetism  ?  Some,  however,  as  we 
have  stated  in  our  observations  on  the  preceding-  Canto,  will  have  it 
that  this  pretended  shield  has,  like  the  principality  of  the  Satrap,  no 
existence  whatever,  save  in  the  heraldry  of  the  hero's  imagination; 
while  others  maintain,  with  us,  that  it  is  a  sprig  of  genuine  truth  en- 
grafted on  tlie  stock  of  the  fable,  and  found  their  argument  upon  the 
fact  that  in  the  three  pebbles  we  have,  after  a  well-known  fashion 
of  heralds,  a  quibbling  allusion  to  the  name  of  Pttra.  Appropriately  of 
this  name,  we  may  just  mention  that  a  few  of  the  ardent  admirers  of  the 
great  man,  whose  youth  is  set  before  the  reader  in  such  fascinating  col- 
ors (where  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent  is  seen  to  blend  with  the  innocence 
and  tenderness  of  the  dove),  that  these  amiable  enthusiasts  regard  De 
Pdra  as  the  real  designation  of  the  herdsman,  and  make  him  a  de- 
scendant of  one  Gabriel  dk  Petka,  a  Latin  translator  of  Longinus; 
whence  they  derive  tliat  just  perception,  that  keen  relish,  of  the  sub- 
lime which  is  so  distinguished  an  attribute  of  the  author  of  the  Tales 
and  Sketches.  Pleasing  conjecture!  might  it  be  considered  true:  but 
the  Muse  from  whose  eyes  nothing  is  hidden,  shows  the  fallacy  of  such 
a  notion,  and  deprives  the  hero  of  the  hereditary  laurel  to  wreathe  his 
brows  with  amaranth.         *  * 


CANTO   FOURTH.  261 

Three  days,  three  nights,  again  another  day. 
Through  heaven's  wide  sea  we  took   our    trackless 

way, 
Such  as  the  moon  through  clouds  is  seen  to  take. 
The  billowy  vapors  surging  on  her  wake.  495 

'T  was  the  fourth  night :    my  head  lay  on  my  breast. 
And  famish'd  youth  sought  sustenance  in  rest : 
When,  suddenly,  I  heard  a  rushing  sound. 
As  when  a  hurricane  sweeps  the  ground  ; 
Upturns  the  car ;  down,  down,  I  feel  me  fall,         5oo 
Like  seamew  stricken  by  the  fowler's  ball ; 
And  then,  the  plash  of  waters  ;  and  I  woke. 
Wide  o'er  my  head  your  bay's  green  surges  broke, 
And,  by  the  dawn's  gray  light,  I  saw  afloat 
The  wizard  foul,  his  car  become  his  boat,  505 

While  round  his  limbs  the  fluttering  silk  was  wound, 
Monstrous  no  more,  as  when  it  spurn'd  the  ground. 
I  saw :  next  moment,  lo  !  the  accursed  Gaul 
A  dogfish  swallowed  up,  car,  silk,  and  all ! 
Why  then  I  perish'd  not,  I  fear  to  think ;  510 

Things  doom'd  to  hang,  men  say,  can  never  sink. 
Sir  Shark  no  more  an  appetite  might  feel, 
And  sav'd  me  doubtless  for  his  noon-day  meal. 
Ere  noon,  a  fisher  pick'd  me  up.     The  rest. 
Want  and  misfortune  will  explain  it  best.  5i5 

Happy  alone  in  that  I  yet  survive, 
Still  happier,  saw  my  foe  devour'd  alive, 


262  THE   VISION   OF   IIUBETA. 

But  happiest  now,  if,  by  your  timely  aid. 
To  this  poor  onion  I  may  add  some  bread. 

Come  to  my  heart!  — Hypocrisy  reply'd, —     520 
Dear  as  myself,  so  sagely  hast  thou  ly'd. 
But  say,  thy  name  ?  how  by  thy  fellows  known  ? 

As  Stupid  Will,  or  William  the  Buffoon. 

Ah! — cry'd  the  goddess  of  the  downcast  eyes, — 
There   blush'd  the   truth !     For   once,  thou  art  not 
wise.  525 

Yet  William  simply  thou  shalt  be  no  more, 
But,  with  the  name  thy  satrap-father  bore, 
Soon  shalt  thou  reign  the  pacha  of  a  journal, 
Esquir'd  in  print,  while  wits  nickname  thee  Colonel. 

Ver.  520.  —  Jlrrocsisr  reply''d,  —  ]  An  eminent  instance  of  the  force 
of  great  virtue.  Even  Hypocrisy,  who  has  hitherto  let  Cant  do  all 
the  speaking,  is  roused  from  her  divine  abstraction  by  the  congenial 
wisdom  of  her  godchild.  Similar  is  a  scene  in  the  thirteenth  Book  of 
the  Odyssey,  between  Minerva  and  the  double-dealing  Ithacus.  We 
have  intimated  already,  that,  as  in  the  qualities  of  his  heart  Rubeta  is 
^Eneas  spiritualized  and  perfected,  so  in  wisdom  and  versatility  he  re- 
sembles, resembles  to  surpass,  the  favored  of  Athena.  Indeed,  the 
Autfior  has  so  told  us  himself:  — 

th'  unborrow'd  glory 

Of  him,  the  Ulysses  of  this  brave  old  story. 

Canto  i.  46.  ** 

625.  There  blush''d  the  truth.']  Why  blush^d^  Dacier  says,  because  it 
was  ashamed  of  being  found  in  his  company.         *  * 

527.  —  the  name  thy  satrap-father  bore,]  That  is,  Petra  added  to 
William.     Taubman. 

528.  —  pacha  —  ]  Heyne  says,  of  three  tails,"  or  with  the  letters 
E.  S,  Q,  annexed  to  his  designation.  An  interpretation  perhaps  sanc- 
tioned by  the  first  hemistich  of  the  succeeding  line.         *  * 

629.  — wits  nickname  thee  "  CWojieL  "  ]  Heyne  reads  cits;  for,  as 
he  justly  observes,  why  should  the  designation  be  ascribed  to  the  jocu- 


CANTO  FOURTH.  263 

Nay,  more ;  if  studious  our  lov'd  will  to  please,      530 

A  nobler  title  shall  thou  bear  than  these: 

Haply  some  muse,  enamor'd  of  thy  fame, 

Shall  consecrate  to  Time  thy  future  name, 

And  men,  delighted,  see  their  Stupid  Will, 

Limn'd  on  the  mists  that  shroud  Apollo's  hill,     535 


larity  of  wit,  when  it  is  the  familiar  style  and  title  of  Rubeta?  The 
same  able  critic  conjectures  tliat  nicA'name  sliould  be  surname,  for  the 
same  reason.  The  melody  of  the  verse  would  certainly  be  improved  by 
the  two  emendations.         *  * 

629.  "  Colonel.^^  ]  At  this  word  we  find  a  note  which  is  evidently  an 
interpolation.  Some  vulgar  fellow  (for  who  else  would  so  misinterpret 
a  character  that  is  the  very  aloe  of  epic  excellence  ?)  rails  thus,  in  the 
style  of  Doll  Tearsheet  :  — "  Colonel !  Thou  abominable  newsmonger ! 
art  thou  not  ashamed  to  be  called  Colonel'?  A  Colonel  J  These  fellows 
will  make  the  word  Colonel  as  odious  as  the  word  editor;  which  was  an 
excellent  good  word  before  it  was  ill-sorted.  Therefore  colonels  had 
need  look  to  it."     K.  Hen.  iv.  A.  ii.  Sc.  4.         *  * 

635.  Limned  on  the  mists  that  shroud  Apollo''s  hill,]  By  this,  the 
Author  means  to  intimate  that  he  himself  never  saw  the  hill  of  the 
Muses,  but  only  draws  his  pictures  from  tlie  clouds,  which  settle  on 
Parnassus,  and  are  taken  for  the  mount  itself,  by  short-sighted  people, 
and  that  they  are  even  like  them  fleeting,  —  quales  ego,  aut  Cluvitnus.* 
But  if  so,  what  does  he  mean  by  consecrating  them  to  Time  ?  Lipsius 
would  read  in  verse ;  not  observing  that,  as  the  Poet  has  said  Muse  in 
the  preceding  line,  this  reading  would  give  place  to  a  slovenly  tau- 
tology. However,  the  text  may  need  no  emendation  ;  for,  as  the  words 
are  put  in  the  mouth  of  Hypocrisy,  it  may  be  that  this  goddess  (not- 
withstanding she  sometimes  speaks  the  truth)  is  really  exercising  her 
function  on  the  ex-apprentice,  and,  when  she  promises  him  notoriety,  ia 
cheating  him  with  a  bubble. 


The  above,  by  some  anonymous  hand,  is  false  criticism.  Hypocrisy 
indeed  does  never  speak  the  original  sentiments  of  her  own  heart, 
(which  would  certainly  be  to  utter  falsehood,)  but  her  words  are,  almost 
always,  truth  counterfeited  from  the  lips  of  others  ;  for  by  tliis  forgery 


•  Jdvenal  of  himself:  Sat.  i.  80. 


264  THE    VISION   OF   RUIiETA. 

In  grov'lling  ways  and  venom'd  froth  surpass 
The  hedge-toad,  and  in  ignorance  the  ass. 
Meantime,   there  's  earnest.     Take  thou.    Buy  and 

eat. 
Who  serves  us  well  shall  never  want  for  meat. 

As  some  tall  lily,  crush'd  by  showers  of  rain,      540 
While  beats  the  storm  lies  levell'd  with  the  plain  ; 
On  the  soak'd  soil  its  leafy  honors  lie, 
While  the  bare  root  confronts  the  inclement  sky; 
When  kindly  hands  the  prostrate  plant  have  found, 
Reset  its  stem,  and  bid  it  grace  the  ground,  545 

Soon  to  the  sun  it  spreads  a  gorgeous  flower, 
And  looks,  reviv'd,  more  lovely  for  the  shower: 
So  from  his  woful  dump  the  hero  rose  : 
O'er  his  soil'd  cheek  the  joy  of  dulness  glows : 

alone  is  she  plausible,  and  able  to  play  her  part  with  eifect.  In  inti- 
mating the  probability  that  some  poet  might  consecrate  to  Time  the 
name  of  Rubeta,  the  goddess  by  no  means  says  that  Time  will  accept 
the  offering.         *  * 

636,  637.  In  —  venom'' dfrolh  surpass  —  The  hedge-load,  —  ]  Alexan- 
der AB  Alex,  considers  the  illustration  to  be  adopted  with  great  pro- 
priety, because  as  the  saliva  of  the  toad  is  really  harmless,  though  re- 
puted poisonous  by  the  vulgar,  so  the  sweltered  malice  of  Rcbeta 
blackens  no  man's  character,  though  he  spits  it  with  a  spite  tiiat,  to  or- 
dinary eyes,  looks  mortal !     Schol. 

637.  — hedge-tuai/,  —  ]  We  have  chosen  tliis  occasion  for  a  conjec- 
tural explanation  of  the  name  RUBETA.  "  Sunt,  quiB  "  —  says  Pliny, 
speaking  of  toads  —  "  Sunt,  quas  in  vepribus  iantum  vivunt,  ob  id  uube- 
TARUM  nomine,  ut  diximus,  quas  Grseci  phrynos  vocant,  grandillimse 
cunctarum,  geminis  veluti  cornibus, ^/enre  ven(ficiorum."  {Hist.  J\''at. 
xxxii.  18.)  Tliis  of  itself  would  seem  to  answer  the  description  of  ani- 
mal ;  but  again  we  have,  "ILLATIS  IN  POPULUM,  SILENTIUM 
FIERI ! "  which  sets  the  matter  beyond  dispute.        *  * 


CAxNTO   FOURTH.  265 

And  oh,  —  he  cry'd,  —  yc  heaven-insph'd  two  !      550 
For  gifts  so  rare  what  shall  your  servant  do  ? 

Do  ?  (Cant  reply'd  :)  Do  nothing  ;  only  lie. 
With  this  one  merit  nothing  else  can  vie. 
Thou  own'st  the  virtue  :  to  sustain  it  try. 
Detraction  ;  slander  ;  skill  to  hide  the  right,  555 

Or  smother  it  whenever  brought  to  light ; 
The  fear  of  God  in  mouth-religion  shown  ; 
The  zeal  for  all  men's  morals  but  one's  own  ; 
All  are  but  forms  of  that  one  gift  divine, 
And  all  these  forms,  my  son,  are  thine,  are  thine !  56o 
This,  to  maintain  our  rights  and  triple  rule ; 
But,  for  thine  own  amusement,  play  the  fool : 
In  books,  gazette,  or  pamphlets ;  where  you  will ; 
Place  cannot  lack  to  such  consummate  skill. 
When  thou  art  great,  as  great  thou  soon  shalt  be,  565 
Since  Dulness'  self  resigns  the  throne  to  thee. 
The  lecture-room  thy  foolery  shall  share. 
And  wise  committees  lead  thee  to  the  chair. 
As  showmen  bid  their  long-tail'd  monkeys  pray. 
To  gather  crowds,  and  make  the  laughers  pay.       570 


Ver.  550.  —  he  cry^d,  —  ye  Ueavhi-inspired  two  .']  This  shows  Rubeta  to 
be  still  ignorant  of  the  character  of  his  visitors.  He  believes  them  to 
be  holy  persons,  sent  expressly  by  Pkovidence  to  reward  a  man  of  his 
consummate  piety.         *  * 

557.  — mouth-religion — ]      The  hero's   "worst    fault,"    like   Jack 
Rugby's,  '■  is,  that  he  is  given  to  prayer.     But  nobody  but  has  his 
fault."     {M.  Wives  of  Windsor,  A.  i.  Sc.  4.)         *  * 
34 


266  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Thus  ill  all  places  scatter  all  thy  trash, 

Gemm'd  thick  with  lies.    Nor  fear  thou  to  be  rash. 


Ver.  567  -  570.  Tkt  lecture-room  thy  foolery  shall  share,  —  And  wise  com- 
mittees, &c.  ] 

Redit  ad  pulpita  notum 

Exodium  *  — 
We  see  by  the  papers,  that  the  imtnortal  panegyrist  of  Eve's  green 
petticoat  is  again  to  favor  the  public  with  one  of  those  delightful  effu- 
sions of  elocjuence,  which  thrilled  the  hearts  of  some  hundred  misses  at 
Clinton-Hall  the  past  winter  ;  the  generous  creature  having  volunteered 
his  services  to  extricate  tlie  N.  Y.  Historical  Society  from  debt.  The 
committee  (on  which,  by  the  by,  his  portly  rival  Petronius  figures: 
happy  society !  in  such  an  orator,  led  to  the  rostrum  by  such  a  com- 
mittee !)  the  committee  have  placed  him  sixth  upon  the  list  of  lectu- 
rers. What  his  subject  will  be  we  do  not  know  ;  but,  to  judge  from 
the  fact  of  his  now  growing  pale  over  the  biography  of  a  Mohawk 
savage,  and  from  his  notorious  modesty,  it  will  doubtless  be  a  recom- 
mendatory sample  of  that  elaborate  compilation.  As  we  are,  happily, 
domiciled  for  the  winter  in  New  York,  we  shall  go  to  hear  him,  and 
take  with  us  our  three  little  girls,  and  two  small  boys,  baby  and  all, 
persoiicB  pallentis  hialuin  in  grcmio  malris  formidantem  infantulum.\ 


*  Juv.  iii.  174. 

t  Friday  evening,  Feb.  23,  1838,  9i  o'clock.  I  have  just  returned  from  the  Stuy- 
vesant  Institute,  wliere  the  divine  lecturer  on  Adam's  emblematic  language  kept 
wisdom  and  loveliness  chained  down  upon  the  benches,  nearly  two  entire  hours,  to 
listen  to  the  eulogy  of  Brant  :  for  it  was,  indeed,  as  we  conjectured,  of  a  portion  of 
his  gatherings  respecting  Brant  that  this  illustrious  being  condescended  to  deliver 
himself.  Unprepared  as  they  were  for  the  discourse,  (for,  until  the  gazette  came  in 
which  advertised  it,  we  were  not  aware  of  the  substitution  of  the  ready  Colonel  for  one 
of  his  brother-lecturers  earlier  on  the  list,)  unprepared  as  they  were,  my  wife,  and 
even  the  children,  cloaked  and  shawled  themselves  wiiii  great  animation;  Nurse  tied 
up  our  precious  baby's  throat  to  secure  it  from  the  sharpness  of  the  freezing  weather; 
the  carriage  drew  up  to  llic  door  ;  and  in  ten  minutes  we  were  in  the  Lecture-room  of 
the  Institute. 

The  classic  exercise  commenced.  The  Athenian,  wriggling  gracefully,  informed 
the  audience,  that  he  hail  been  pitched  upon,  quite  unexpectedly  to  himself,  "  as  a  for- 
lorn sort  o'  hope,"  whereupon  he  wittily  remarked,  with  that  inimitable  expression  of 
his  unrivalled  mouth,  that  he  was  afraid  they  would  find  him  \eiy  forlorn.  I  thought 
the  baby  would  have  gone  into  convulsions !  —  He  then  added,  that  he  had  himself  a 
cold,  muttered  something  which,  we  regret  to  say,  was  lost  to  us  in  the  immensity  of 
liis  shirt-collar,  finished  the  observation  on  catarrhal  impediments  by  remarking  that  he 
was  not  always  thought  to  croak  like  a  raven,  coughed  five  limes,  spoke  of  militia-offi- 


CANTO    FOURTH.  267 


If  scented,  call  them  errors.     This  shall  pass : 
Nobody  minds  the  stumbling  of  an  ass. 


cers  and  epaulettes,  witli  a  beautifully  jocose  allusion  to  his  own  military  lionors,  and 
at  last  condescended  to  fall  into  the  midst  of  things,  assuring  the  ladies  that,  though  the 
Indians  did  butcher  women,  the}' never  violated  tiicm,  as,  he  said,  was  always  the 
case  in  Christian  warfare,  (a) 

He  then  told  us  how  the  poet  Campbell  was  guilty  of  a  great  want  of  magnan- 
imity in  not  altering  his  elegant  poem,  after  he  had  been  informed  by  the  younger 
Brant  of  the  error  of  his  statement  with  regard  to  the  Oneida  chieftain,  said  he  should 
not  have  put  the  correction  into  a  note,  but  have  altered  the  text,  &C.5  a  suggestion 
which,  should  Mr.  Campbell  by  any  odd  chance  light  upon  these  pages,  he  will 
doubtless  adopt,  coming  as  it  does  from  a  member  of  the  N.  Y.  H.  S.  and  a  colonel  of 
militia.  And  by  the  vvay,  of  our  own  accord,  we  advise  that  distinguished  poet  in 
future  to  pronounce  the  locality  of  his  story  VVyo'ming  and  not  Wy'oming  ;  that 
having  been  the  pronunciation  of  the  lecturer  throughout,  except  once  in  the  middle  of 
his  discourse,  when,  perceiving  my  little  boj's  to  stare,  he  observed,  parenlheticall}', 
that  he  believed  the  true  pronunciation  2ras  Wy'oming,  but  that  he  had  got  a  habit  in 
his  boyhood  (when  Scipio  taught  him)  0/  saying  Wyo'ming,  and  he  had  ever 
AFTER  STUCK  TO  IT  :  which,  as  my  youngest  boy  remarked,  is  being  very  spirited. 

Moreover,  on  the  same  occasion,  we  learned  that  audacious  must  be  articulated 
mo-dash-US ;  occupation,  ok-koo-pa-tion ;  regular,  reg-gil-er  ;  &c.  &c.  &c. 

But  my  wife  !  She  shall  never  see  Rubeta  again !  never  !  I  thought  she  would  have 
gone  crazy  from  the  mere  fascination  of  his  mouth !  Were  the  dear  susceptible  crea- 
ture in  the  way  she  contrives  to  be,  to  my  delight  and  affliction,  every  two  ^-ears,  1 
should  certainly  have  removed  her.  And  my  little  Amelia  asked  me ,  tchat  that  funny 
man  did  eat  ?  To  the  readers  of  the  Vision,  who  are  aware  of  the  beauty  of  this  uncon- 
tracted  feature  in  the  hero's  celestial  physiognomy,  this  enthusiasm  of  the  females  of 
my  family  will  not  appear  surprising.  Even  I,  I  myself,  grey  as  I  am  in  divers  pat- 
ches, had  almost  laughed  aloud  in  pure  delight  of  contemplation  ;  for  the  recollection 
crossed  me  of  what  Iago  wished  his  fingers  were  for  Cassio's  sake,  and  I  could  not 
help  wondering,  if  Cassio's  mouth  were  like  Rubeta's,  that  it  should  suggest  to  the 
brain  of  the  malicious  and  envious  Ancient  so  savory  a  fancy. 

In  conclusion,  we  heard  a  great  deal  that  we  did  not  understand,  but  we  were  en- 
tertained with  sundry  sallies  of  the  .facetious  historian's  wit,  learned  that  officers  on 
parade  must  be  said  to  gambol  about,  when  they  ride  their  horses  briskly  up  and  down, 
and  had  the  inexpressible  felicity  of  seeing  represented  the  very  idea  we  had  formed 
of  the  Lecturer's  manner  when  toying  with  Loraina  ;  for,  at  the  close  of  his  dis- 
course, having  occasion  to  speak  of  a  young  savage  bursting  into  a  room  with  "  a 
baby  "  in  his  arms,  he  paused  for  a  moment ;  his  eyes  scintillated  in  their  own  peculiar 
manner;  "skipping,"  said  he,  "  like  —  like  a  young  fawn'" ;  and,  as  he  spoke,  the 
mighty  Colonel  tossed  his  arms  like  a  cradle,  lifted  his  inferior  members  one  after 
another,  and  showed  us  a  living  picture  of  the  nursery.  He  then  closed  his  sheets,  and 
remarking,  as  he  raised  the  foot  of  the  pamphlet  so  as  to  let  the  light  glance  on  it,  and 
show  us  it  was  printed,  that  it  was  part  of  a  work  which  would  very  soon  he  published, 

(a)  A  favorite  subject  of  his,  as  will  be  seen  at  v.  707,  and  as  is  well  known  to  the  read- 
ers of  the  N.  Y.  Comm.  Adv. 


208  riii:  vision  or  rubeta. 

Laugh  with  the  foe:  stand  firm.    If  vain  their  fire,  ^^75 
To  save  themselves  their  forces  must  retire. 
Rare  strategy,  for  which  Fate  made  thee  fit. 
Who  gave  thy  modesty  to  match  thy  wit ! 

Thus  she.  But,  joy  dissembling,  while  he  sigh'd, 
Dulness'  dull  offspring  thus,  demure,  reply'd  :  —  58o 
Ah  !  might  this  be  !  But  this  (thou  know'st  it  w  ell) 
Were  cheap'ning  pleasure  at  the  mart  of  Hell. 


Ver.  575.  —  standfrm.  If  vain  their  Jire,  —  To  save  themselves,  their 
forces  must  retire.]  Cant,  whose  metaphors  are  usually  taken  from  the 
sacred  writings,  yet  does  not  hesitate  to  borrow  them  from  every  use 
and  circumstance  of  life  ;  as  is  known  to  tliose  who  are  most  familiar 
with  the  ways  of  this  pleasant  goddess.  Here,  for  instance,  where  she 
has  dropped  the  language  of  her  office,  and  comes  to  plain  dealing  with 
the  hero,  the  allusion  is  almost  a  translation  from  the  tactics  of  Put- 
SEGUR  : — • 

"  Mais,  dira-t-on,  comment  ces  figures  de  bataillon  peuvent-elles  marcher  et  tenter 
de  se  retirer,  surtout  ayant  les  rangs  et  les  files  si  serres  ?  Je  s^ai  bien  que  quand 
I'ennemi,  apr^s  s'Ctre  soumisa  leur  feu,  marche  pour  les  attaquer,  pour  lors  ces  batail- 
lons  ne  doivent  pas  marcher,  mais  attendre  le  choc  de  pied  ferme.  L'  ennemi  attaque 
de  force,  ou  ne  le  fait  pas;  s'il  n'attaque  pas,  ou  qu'apris  avoir  allaqui  il  n' ait  pas 
reussiy  il  faut  qn^il  s'  eloigne  pour  ne  pas  etre  sotaiiis  an  feu,  et  ne  pas  perdre  inutile- 
ment  ciu  monde."     Art  de  la  Guerre  :  Chap.  xiii.  Art.  viii.  (4to.  T.  i.  p.  289.) 

578.  —  thy  modesty  to  match  thy  ivit.}  We  have  shown,  (and  proofs 
must  multiply  as  we  go  on,)  that  both  are  unrivalled.  But  for  the  for- 
mer quality,  ah  !  nobody  ever  came  near  it  but  So  si  a.* 

he  curtsied,  and,  with  a  soft  and  winning  smile,  gave  the  audience  permission  to  go 
home  and  get  warmed. 

As  we  left  the  hall  door,  a  pretty  girl  remarked,  that  she  thought  the  lecture  "for- 
lorn, and  should  not  go  again."  —  "  But  the  mouth,  the  mouth  !  "  said  my  wife.  "  But 
the  mouih  !"  said  Amelia.  "  My  dears,"  said  I,  "  both,  —  you  will  leave  the  mouth 
till  a  reggeler  opportoonity  :  that  'ere  's  the  car-ri-age,  and  it 's  time  to  gambol  home." 
My  wife  pressed  my  arm  in  rapture  at  my  improved  elocution,  called  me  her  dear 
Colonel,  and  took  her  seat.  I  felt  like  Othello  ;  and  all  that  night  I  lay  with  my 
back  to  her.     Certainly,  never  shall  she  see  that  basilisk  again  !  *  * 

*  In  the  AmpJdtnjon,  where  that  worthy  fellow  says  of  himself,  (A.  i.  Sc.  i.) 
Qui  me  alter  est  audacior  homo  ?  aut  qui  me  confidentior  ? 


CANTO   FOURTH.  269 

Smil'd  the  twin-goddesses  a  solemn  smile, 
To  find  their  charge  transcend  them  both  in  guile  ; 
And    Cant   resum'd  :  —  Know'st   not  it   hath  been 
said  585 

Lies  are  but  breath,  and  cannot  weigh  with  bread  ? 
'T  is  the  mouth's  care  the  stomach  to  supply. 
Curse  then  your  stomach,  if  its  pantler  lie ; 
And  nobly  dare,  since  to  the  gap  thou  'rt  driven ; 
Nor  hope,  a  newsman  thou,  to  go  to  Heaven.        59o 
Or  fear'st  thou  me  ?     O  son,  too  wise  by  far, 
Behold  !  and  know  us  both  for  what  we  are  ! 

Straight,  to  the  prentice-hero's  swelling  eyes. 
Up  from  the  floor  a  fog  appear'd  to  rise, 

Ver.  585.  —  Knoiv'st  not  it  hath  been  said  —  Lies  are  but  breath,  and  can- 
not weigh  tviih  bread?]  We  suppose  that  Cant,  (who,  whether  in  her 
real  essence,  or  in  her  assumed  character,  would  be  conversant  with  the 
history  of  all  heresies,)  alludes  to  the  doctrines  of  Priscillian  ;  this 
amiable  bishop  having  taught,  that  false  oaths,  and  of  course  ordinary- 
lies,  are  perfectly  justifiable  when  recommended  by  utility  and  conven- 
ience ;  a  tenet  which  the  snivelling  goddess  knew  must  be  peculiarly 
acceptable  to  the  future  newsman.  And,  accordingly,  it  has  ever  since 
proved  the  rule  of  his  action,  as  it  is  the  basis  of  the  wisdom  of  half  his 
tribe. 

But  RuBETA  was  already  in  possession  of  this  principle,  as  he  himself 
has  boasted,  and  Cant  herself  acknowledges.  Why  then  was  it  neces- 
sary to  teach  it  ?  w3ns.  To  confirm  him  in  his  lofty  course  of  conduct: 
for,  during  his  mortal  term  of  life,  the  immortal  changeling  would  neces- 
sarily be  subject  to  the  inconstancy  of  humanity,  which  needs  every 
caution,  and  encouragement,  to  maintain  it  in  rectitude.        *  * 

693,  &c.  Straight,  etc.  ]  Those,  who  maintain  that  the  deification 
of  Rubeta's  visitors  is  but  poetical  embellishment,  bring  forward  this 
passage  in  proof  of  their  argument,  and  pretend  to  tell  us,  that  the  fog 
and  sunbeam  are  no  more  than  the  gloom  of  the  chamber  as  the  twi- 
light thickens  into  darkness,  and  the  transformation  of  the  righteous 


270  i'lii:  visroN  of  kubeta. 

Which  vvrapp'd  the  strangers  in  its  dusky  shade,    595 

While  through  the  veil  a  parting  sunbeam  play'd, 

And  lo  !  the  brother  of  the  Eggs  was  seen, 

In  sober  bonnet  and  with  simpering  mien, 

A  damsel  cautelous  of  plump  eighteen  ; 

Such  as,  on  Sunday,  mincing  from  her  pew,  coo 

Looks  o'er  the  shoulder,  when  base  men  pursue. 

He  of  the  freckled  cheek  appear'd  no  more  ; 

No  more  in  bulk  ;  but,  heavenly  as  before. 

His  upturn'd  eyes  were  seen,  and  mouth's  dry  twist, 

Floating  and  flickering  on  the  cloud  of  mist ;  C05 

Yet  ever  nigh  the  bonnet  kept  their  place. 

Like  a  booth-brother  breathing  sounds  of  grace. 

All  this  above  ;  but,  'neath  the  damsel's  clothes, 

Peep'd  out  an  alligator's  scaly  toes. 

couple  a  mere  optical  delusion,  consequent  upon  the  imperfect  vision  of 
the  hero,  and  his  now  thorough  perception  of  their  character.         *  * 

607.  Like  a  hooth-hrolher  breathing  sounds  of  grace.  ]  Alludes  to 
the  conjSdential  exhortations,  in  those  abominable  howling-matches  in 
the  wilderness  which  go  by  the  name  of  camp-meetings ;  and  which,  be 
it  remarked,  are  as  gross  an  insult  to  the  majesty  of  religion,  as  the 
mummery  of  the  ancient  priests  of  Isis,  and  only  less  licentious  than 
that  horrible  superstition  because  less  general.         *  * 

609.  —  alligator  —  ]  This  well  known  species  of  lizard,  whose  drow- 
sy nature  makes  it  love  a  state  of  quiescence,  is  said  to  make  up  for  its 
want  of  bodily  flexibility  by  assuming  tlie  motionless  appearance  of  a 
log  on  the  water,  which  induces  the  duller  animals  to  come  within  its 
reach :  whence,  and  from  the  popular  and  poetical  notion  of  its  coun- 
terfeiting distress,  it  has  been  at  all  times  an  emblem  of  hypocrisy.* 

*  The  cliflbreiice  between  the  alligator  ol'  Florida  and  the  crocodile  of  KnvPT  is 
not  well  established,  or  is  so  trifling  as  to  be  confined  to  a  very  few,  and  cxccedinglj' 
slight,  physical  distinctions  ;  though  Cuvif.r  has  enumerated  not  less  than  twelve 
species  as  distinct  families  of  this  monster. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  271 

Down  in  the  dust,  before  the  awful  shade,  cio 

The  hero  knelt  unmask'd,  and  thus  ecstatic,  pray'd:  — 

Take  me,  good  angels !  soul  and  body  take. 
Mould  by  your  will,  and  what  you  'd  have   them 
make  ! 


Ver.61-2,  &c.  Takeme,  good  angels  !  etc.  etc.]  Imitated  from  the  Clouds. 
Certainly  there  is  a  remarkable  family  likeness,  between  the  qualities 
for  which  Strepsiades  conditions  and  those  of  which  Rubeta  is  in 
happy  possession,  as  will  be  seen  particularly  in  the  parts  of  the  origi- 
nal we  have  underscored. 

Nuv  auv  y^^riff^uv,  o  ri  (iovXovTai 
TovTi  TO  y'  tficv  ffufe, '  ahroTffiv 

Av^fiiTti,  piyouv,  affKov  oai^tiv  ' 

Toii  av^^uTois  t'  ihui  o'o\u 

&  Qetffiis,   ivy\  tar  r  0  s,   roXfttj^os,  7  r  ti  ;, 

BSsXt/go;,  ■^iuSa/v   ^uy  K  oXXnvri  it 

Mac^Xxj,  i'l  ^ta  V,  yXotos,  aXa,  ^ojv  \, 

2  r^o^i  S,  a  pyaXi  0  s,  /iwrrvoXoi^os. 

439-451. 

As  Aristophanes  uses  many  words  that  are  of  rare  occurrence,  and 
not  unfrequently  in  senses  that  are  peculiar  or  unusual,  the  general 
reader  will  perhaps  not  be  displeased,  that  I  attempt  to  render  in  Eng- 
lish the  verses  I  have  cited,  (if  he  will  pardon  an  extemporaneous  and 
doggerel,  but  almost  literal,  version  of  that  melodious  wit.)  || 


*  III  one  sense,  his  contemporary,  the  elegant  Petronius,  shares  with  him  in  this 
gift. 

t  This  his  goddesses  would  not  allow  to  our  Strepsiades,  but  have  made  the  quali- 
fication over  to  Petronius. 

\  Shared  with  Petronius. 

§  Characteristic  of  the  whole  tribe. 

II  I  have  no  copy  of  JMr.  Mitchell's  Aristophanes,  or  I  should  transcribe  the  ver- 
sion therefrom.     It  is  several  years  since  I  met,  in  some  review,  or  magazine,  with 


272  THE    VISION   OF   KUBETA. 

Lo  !  for  all  jobs  your  trusty  servant  fit ; 

To  your  great  cause,  obedient,  I  submit  6i5 

SrsEPSJADEs  is  addressing  the  Clouds,  the  demons  which  the  satirical 
dramatist  feigns  to  be  the  deities  of  Socrates. 

Now  let  them  use  me  as  they  please. 

This,  my  body,  I  give  to  these, 

To  beat,  to  expose  to  hunger  and  thirst, 

To  parch  with  heat,  *  to  stiffen  with  cold, 
To  strip  of  the  hide,  (if  it  come  to  the  worst,) 

So  that  my  creditors  loose  their  hold. 

To  men  I  may  seem  a  rascal  bold, 
With  the  gift  of  the  gab,  pert  and  audacious, 
Flagitious,  loquacious. 
And  above  all,  mendacious  ; 
Vers'd  in  the  strife  and  the  Aviles  of  the  court. 

Of  law-stuff  to  prattle, 

A  turbulent  rattle, 
A  sly-creeping  fox ;  an  old  stager  in  short : 
A  slippery  knave,  and  as  pliant  as  leather, 
A  thorough  dissembler  and  braggart  together, 

certain  extracts  from  that  work,  which  delighted  me  exceedingly.     One  passage  I  re- 
member :  it  is  the  translation  of  these  lines  : 

DisciP.  I.     " AndpojTTe,  Tt  noiets'} 

Streps.    "O  n  noiZ;  n  J'  aWo  y' ?} 

AiaXtJTTToXoyou^ai  Ta7i  ioKoTi  rtj;  otKia;  ; 
which  Mr.  Mitchell  thus  happily  renders,  (I  hope  I  shall  not  be  found  to  misquote 
him  ?  )  in  the  very  spirit  of  his  author;  that  is,  as  Aristophanes  would  have  written 
had  his  language  been  English  : 

1st  Discip.    Old  fellow  there,  what  arc  you  after  ? 

Streps.      I  've  a  knotty  point  with  your  schoolroom  joint, 

And  some  logic  to  chop  with  your  rafter. 
If  all  his  translation  be  like  this  specimen  (1),  I  am  forestalled  in  a  labor  of  love  which 
I  had  set  by  for  some  future  day. 

*  I  do  not  know  why  Urunck,  and  others,  have  preferred  to  translate  av'^dv  by 
squalore  conficere,  when  the  ordinary  sense  affords  so  agreeable  an  antithesis. 

(I)  This,  I  think,  is  a  mistake.  Mr.  Mitchell,  I  believe,  never  translated  the  Clouds, 
but  published,  in  his  volumes,  the  version  of  Cumberland.  An  accomplishfid  friend  ad- 
vises me,  that  it  is,  without  doubt,  a  Tersion  of  the  reviewer  of  Mr.  Mitchell's  perform- 
ance, which  the  Author,  by  a  lapse  of  the  memory,  has  ascribed  to  the  latter  gentleman. 
The  work  of  translation,  therefore,  is  still  open  in  English;  for  Cumberland's  Clouds, 
however  elegant,  is  not  the  Clouds  of  AnisTorH.iNEs.  *  * 


CANTO   FOURTH.  273 

These  brains  (if  any  be,)  these  hands,  this  face, 
Reckless  of  scorn,  and  callous  to  disgrace. 
All  that  I  ask,  —  Feed,  feed  my  craving  purse  ! 
And,  worthless  as  I  am,  still  make  me  worse  ! 
Known  through  the  isle  for  impudence,  audacity,    620 
Emptiness,  malice,  arrogance,  loquacity, 
Dissembling,  cunning,  boastfulness,  mendacity  ; 
My  mind  and  morals  most  consummate  matches, 
Py'd  as  my  journal,  patches  set  on  patches : 


A  cloak  of  odd  patches,  obscenely  impure, 
A  Jack  at  all  tricks,  and  most  hard  to  endure, 

And  ready  at  all  times  to  cozen  the  poor.  * 

*  * 

624.  P}fd  as  my  journal,  — ]  The  journal  over  which  his  god-parents 
had  promised  to  set  him  (v.  528).  He  seems  already  to  conceive  a  very 
exact  idea  of  its  nature.  Whence  many  have  supposed  that  his  time  had 

*  Though  I  cite  from  Ihe  favorite  edition  of  Brunck,  I  have  chosen,  for  con- 
venience, the  common  reading  ^ufioXoi;^ij,  notwithstanding  that  excerieni  editor  pro- 
nounced it  nihili  esse. 

MarioXoivof ,  qui  ex  falsa  inensura  lucrum  capiat :  a  nomine  ftaTiov,  signijicante  genus 
quoddam  mensurce.  [Eust.  —  Aristoph.  in  Nub.]  An  explanation  which,  if  it  can  be 
defended  (1),  cannot  be  considered  as  inapplicable.  However,  for  the  emendation  pre- 
ferred by  Brunck,  fiarTbr)  is  matlya,  nav  ttoXvtcXis  cSeana  :  jiaTTvo\of)(oi  therefore, 
mattyarum  lincior ;  Anglic^,  smell-feast :  a  sort  of  character  which  applies  so  well  to 
RuBETA,  Petronius,  <fe  Co.,  (who,  it  is  known,  will  puff  any  tavern  for  a  hot 
dinner,  and  who  fall  into  raptures  when  the  master  of  a  steamer  invites  them  down  to 
mortadella-sandviiches  and  iced  champagne,)  that,  had  1  time  to  spare,  I  would  leave 
my  rhymes   no  longer  extemporaneous,  but  amend  them  for  the  sake  of  the  last  line. 

(1)  Bentley  scoffs  at  both  the  old  readings.  MiTio?,ci;^ij  is  considered  above,  and  is  cer- 
tainly very  suspicious.  But  for  MxTxir,>.'.ixi;,  though  the  prosodian  may  object  to  it,  the 
interpreter  Cannot  be  so  nice.  Qui  frivolas  res  consectatur,  eas  velui  delambens,  (Steph. 
Thes.,)  is  not  only  a  natural  sense,  hut  a  sense  which  is  applicable  to  the  occasion.  In  this 
light,  the  greatest  objection  to  the  phrase  is  that  it  is  weak,  and,  coming  at  the  tail  of  the 
long  string  of  characteristic  epithets  and  epithetic  titles  which  Stbepsiades  is  willing  to 
have  applied  to  himself,  makes  but  "  a  lame  and  impotent  conclusion."  The  emendaiion  of 
Bentley  (which  is  that  adopted  by  Brunck)  is  perhaps  the  true  reading.  See,  however, 
•what  ScHUTZ  says  of  it,  vol.  i.  of  his  edition  of  Aristophanes,  Part  ii.  p.  349,  (Lips.  1821.) 

*  * 

35 


274  THE   VISION    OF   RUBETA. 

In  fine,  in  all  things  yours  and  Dulness'  tool,        625 
Unrivall'd  whether  mountebank  or  fool  ! 

Thus  pray'd  the  hero.     Meantime,  denser  grows 
The  mist  :  melt  into  shade  the  goddess'  clothes. 
And  floating  mouth  and  eyes,  and  crocodiline  toes. 
But  still  the  drawl  ethereal  caught  the  ear,  cso 

While  thus  spoke  Cant  the  adoring  garreteer  :  — 

Well  hast  thou  pray'd.     Ere  twice  ten  weeks,  my 
son, 
This  isle  shall  feel  thy  ministry  begun. 
For  Ignorance  to  Impudence  shall  grant 
A  loan  to  aid  our  projects.     Trust  in  Cant.  (i3o 

And  now,  adieu !     Before  three  nights  expire. 
Another  roof  shall  shield  thee,  fresh  attire. 
But,  O  my  child  !  one  warning  ere  we  part : 
Guard  from  the  fair  that  too  susceptive  heart. 


been  served  under  the  printer  of  a  thing  of  this  kind:  a  supposition 
altogether  necessary,  if  we  are  to  believe  this  scene  is  allegorical. 

630.  — ethereal  —  ]  Muretus  reads  ce/esh'a/ ;  falsely,  and  with  little 
reflection.  The  voice  cannot  be  called  either  celestial  or  infernal,  as 
these  goddesses  are  neither  of  Heave.v,  nor  (though  on  intimate  terms 
with  the  inhabitants  of  this  latter  empire)  of  Hell,  but,  as  will  be  seen 
in  another  part  of  the  poem,  the  denizens  of  atmospheric  space;  being 
demons  which  hover  round  humanity,  and,  like  their  various  fellows, 
conflict  incessantly  with  the  opponent  virtues,  except  where  they  have 
complete  possession  of  the  man,  or,  as  in  the  present  instance,  are  his 
friends  and  ministers  by  birtliright.         *  * 

638,  &c.  But,  O  my  child!  etc.]  The  arrangement  efl'ected  with  her 
godchild,  Caist  no  more  compels  herself  to  plain  speaking,  but  contin- 
ues in  her  favorite  style.         *  * 


CANTO  rouRTH.  275 

Wo  's  me  !   I  hear  thee  blubber  at  the  thought. 

Samson,  thy  locks  are  shorn,  thy  strength  is  naught. 

And  Dalilas  shall  lead  thy  wit  astray  ! 

Be  it ;  but  only  in  a  moral  way. 

As  in  the  day  when  Zion's  curse  began  ; 

When  seven  virgins  seiz'd  upon  one  man,  G45 

Saying  :  Not  for  thy  rank,  or  wealth,  we  sigh. 

But,'  mercy  !   make  us  women  ere  we  die  ; 

So  maids  shall  flock  to  thee.    O  be  they  spurn'd  ! 

Before,  like  Israel's  king,  thy  heart  is  turn'd. 

Write  of  the  sex,  incessant ;   but  so  write,  650 

As  if  thou  woo'd  it  in  thy  soul's  despite  : 

Clap  on  the  virgin  honor  of  thy  brain 

Rachel's  twin  garters  and  her  tinkling  chain  ; 

And  let  not  Egypt's  fleshpots  fire  the  vein ; 


Ver.644-647.  ^^s  in  the  day  —  etc.]  "And  in  that  day  seven  women  shall 
take  hold  of  one  man,  saying,  We  will  eat  our  own  bread,  and  wear  our 
own  apparel ;  only  let  us  be  called  by  thy  name,  to  take  away  our  re- 
proach."    Isaiah  iv,  1. 

649.  —  like  IsraeVs  king  —  ]  It  is  a  curious  and  pleasing  study  to 
trace  the  mighty  current  of  some  strong  imagination  up  to  his  little  and 
remote  origin.  In  this  hint  from  the  goddess  lay,  it  seems  to  us,  the 
seed  of  that  luxuriant  poem,  whose  giant  branches  shadow,  with  a  sol- 
emn yet  graceful  umbrage,  the  Sepulchre  of  David.  See  our  note  at 
V.  343.        *  * 

653.  Rachel's  twin  garters  and  her  tinkling  chain  :]  A  custom  with 
the  Hebrew  people,  thus  explained  from  Maimonides  by  the  Hugue- 
not Allix  : 

—  "  une  coutumc  que  le  juste  desir  de  conserver  la  virginite  des  filles  centre 
toutes  sortes  d'accidens  avait  introduite  parmi  ce  peuple.  Les  filles  portaient 
une  espece  d'entraves  appelees  dans  le  Talmud  Ceralim ;  dont  voici  la  description 
faite  par  le  cclebre  fils  de  Maiemon,  Motse  :  Cevalim  sunt  compedes  in  forma  pe- 
riscelidis,  inter  quns  interposnerunt  catemdas.     lllis  convpedibus  ornabant  se  rirgincs, 


276  THE  VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

But  live  on  salep,  arrow-root,  and  sago,  655 

Thou  of  absurdities  thrice-blest  farrago  ! 

She  ceas'd.     Down   rush'd  the  night.     The  voice 
no  more 
Rous'd  the  dull  echoes  of  the  attic  floor. 
Lull'd  by  his  hopes,  the  hero  ceas'd  to  weep, 
Peel'd  his  sole  onion,  and  lay  down  to  sleep.  660 

But  the  twin-power  cleave  the  star-lit  air 
To  Mother  Weasel's  den  of  privy  pray'r, 
In  their  first  shape,  as  deacons,  welcome  light. 
And  with  the  sisters  howl  the  livelong  night. 

Thrice  wan'd  three  months.    Then  Dulness,  with 
a  smile,  665 

Saw  her  son's  genius  tickle  all  the  isle. 
His  gallimaufry  girls  and  grandames  bought. 
And  lik'd  a  page  that  sav'd  the  toil  of  thought. 

Once  learn  to  float,  the  waters  ever  please. 
Till,  like  a  duck,  you  paddle  at  your  ease.  67o 

Charm'd  with  the  plash  he  made,  the  gazetteer 
Plung'd  deeper  in,  and  flounder'd  spite  of  fear  : 


ut  non  intercederent  passu  magna,  ne  coniingeret  ipsis  damnum  in  virginitaie  sua." 
Reflex,  sur  les  5  Livres  de  Molse,  pour  etablir  la  Verite  de  la  Relig.  Chretienne  : 
2«  Part.,  chap.  xx.  p.  238,  {Land.  1687.) 


It  is  this  gvard-chain  to  which  the  prophet  Isaiah  alludes  (iii.  18):  —  "In 
that  day  the  Lord  will  take  away  the  bravery  of  their  tinkling  ornaments  (about 
their  feet,  tjie  translators  add). 

Rachel,  of  course,  is  put  in  the   text  for  any  Jewish  maiden.         *  * 


CANTO  FOURTH.  277 

For    when    men's   laughter    reach'd    him   from    the 

banks, 
He  deem'd  it  praise,  and  cut  still  rarer  pranks ; 
Div'd  on  his  belly,  swam  with  dash  and  thump,     G75 
Here  jerk'd  a  heel,  and  there  display'd  the  rump : 
Then,  issuing  from  the  pool,  with  ooze  all  grim, 
Ye  gods  !  he  crj'd,  what  royal  sport  to  swim  ! 

Thence  Masonry  her  bright  primordial  fetches  ; 
To  this  we  owe  your  fire,  seraphic  Sketches!  680 


Ver.  673,  674.  For  when  men^s  laughter  reach'd  him  from  the  banks,  ^-  He 
deemed  it  praise,  and  cut  still  rarer  pranks.]  —  "  tarn  frigidis  dictis  captans 
risum,  ut  ipse  ssepius,  quara  dicta  sua,  rideretur."  Thom.  Mori  Eq. 
Utopias.  Lib.  1.  {p.  49,  ed.  Foulis,  1750.) 

679.  — Masonry — ]  Some  years  ago  there  was  a  violent  excite- 
ment caused  in  the  state  of  New  York,  and  elsewhere  in  the  Union,  by 
the  supposed  abstraction,  by  a  party  of  Free  Masons,  of  one  Morgan, 
who  had  divulged  their  mystery.  Party  lays  hold  of  any  thing ;  and 
soon  Masonry  and  Anti-masonry  became  the  rallying-shout  of  opposing 
political  factions.  The  great  Rubeta  pounced  upon  the  occasion  ;  as, 
more  recently,  the  imposture  of  a  vagabond  swindler,  the  calumnies  of 
an  apostate  nun,  and  tiie  infatuation  of  a  parcel  of  soft-headed  doctors, 
all  in  succession,  furnished  him  with  similar  quarry.  Were  a  fit  to  seize 
upon  the  people  of  Manhattan  to  eat  eggs  at  the  side  instead  of  the 
end,  we  should  have  forthwith,  from  the  same  sublime  pen,  a  treatise  on 
the  advantages  and  disadvantages  of  the  lateral  infraction,  &c.  Like 
Sir  John  of  the  belly,  there  is  not  a  dangerous  action  can  peep  out  his 
head,  but  he  is  thrust  upon  it.* 

630.  —  Sketches  !  ]  "As  to  the  title  of  these  vols.,  etc.  the  author 
has  chosen  it  exactly  for  its  fitness,  etc.  He  desires  not  to  deceive  the 
public,  and  therefore  tells  them  honestly  at  the  threshold,  that  these 
volumes  contain  'tales  and  sketches,  —  such  as  they  are,'  and 
nothing  more"  An  assertion  which  we  assure  the  reader  is  strictly 
true.  *  * 

*  2d  Ft.  Hen.  IV.  A,  i.  .Sc.  2. 


278  THE  VISION  or  rubeta 

Writ  for  a  fashion,  and  to  prove  the  pen 
Fits  other  hands  than  those  of  letter'd  men. 
There  Washington  is  seen  to  tread  the  floor 
In  the  same  pumps  Alcides  us'd  before  ; 

Ver.  681.  Writ  for  a  fashion  —  ]  "  Everybody  writes  books  now-a-days, 
and  one  does  not  care  to  be  singular."  Exegetical  Epistle  of  the 
Tales  and  Sketches  —  S.  A.  Th.  A. 

Ay,  ay, 

stulta  est  dementia,  cum  tot  ubique 

Vatibus  occurras,  perituras  parcere  chartse  !  * 

681,  682.  —  and  to  prove  the  pen  —  Fits  other  hands  than  those  of  let- 
tered men.] 

"  One  of  Solomon's  objections  to  '  the  making  of  many  books  '  seems  to  liave 
arisen  from  the  fact  which  he  asserts  immediately  afterwards,  that  '  much  study  is" 
a  weariness  of  the  flesh.'  But  with  all  his  wisdom  the  Hebrew  monarch  seemed 
little  aware  [How  the  deuse  should  he,  my  dear  Colonel?  he  was  not  a  prophet] 
of  the  facility  with  which  the  article  would  be  manufactured  in  these  latter  days." 
Exeg.  Ep.  &c. 

Having  our  eyes  on  the  T.  and  S.,  we  Avill  countersign  this,  more 
pce-dag.,  Approved. 

By  the  by,  it  may  please  a  man  of  the  Sketcher's  singular  modesty,  to 
know  that  he  has  accidentally  trodden  in  the  steps  of  an  author  once 
very  famous ;  for  we  have  not  the  least  idea  that  the  author  of  the  Mys- 
ter.  Bridal  would  knowingly  copy  so  very  inferior  a  writer  as  Vol- 
taire: —  "  lis  ont  raison,  lui  dis-je,  il  y  a  long-temps  qu'on  se  plaint  de 
la  multitude  des  livres.  Voyez  I'Eccli'siaste  ;  il  vous  dit  tout  net  qu'on 
ne  cesse  d'ecrire,  scribendi  nullus  est  fnis.  Tant  de  meditation  n'est 
qu'  une  afiiiction  de  la  chair,/re(]ruen5  meditatio  afflictio  est  carnis.'"  Lett. 
Chinoises,  xii. 

683.  There  WAmiNOTON  is  seen  to  tread  the  floor, —  In  the  same  pumps 
Alcides  us''d  before  ;]  "  The  illustrious  chieftain  himself  did  not  hesitate 
to  countenance  the  elegant  amusement  by  participation,  as  the  heroes 
and  statesmen  of  antiquity  —  the  demigods  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans  — 
had  done  before  him.  Mrs.  Peter  Van  Brook  Livingston  and  Mrs. 
Hamilton,  were  successively  honored  by  the  chieftain's  hand  in  a 
cotillion."     T.  and  S.,  Vol.  ii.  p.  211. 

684,  685.  There  Madam  Hancock  culls  young  Alnwick  out,  —  Or 
charms  with  hlandishmpjits  her  husha^id^s  gout.]  "  Her  acquaintance,  " 
(Mad.  Hancock's,)  "  was  extensive  with  the  principal  statesmen  and 
warriors  of  the  revolutionary  era,  and  likewise  with  the  officers  of  the 

*  Jiiv.  i.  17,  18.        ''* 


CANTO   FOURTH.  279 

There  Madam  Hancock  culls  young  Alnwick  out,  g85 
Or  charms  with  blandishments  her  husband's  gout  ; 

Britisli  army,  &.c.  Her  conversations,  therefore,  on  suitable  occasions, 
abounded  with  all  the  savoury  recollections  and  piquant  anecdotes 
which,  from  the  lips  of  a  fascinating  woman  add  such  a  charm  to  the 
social  circle,  etc."  (Out,  hyperbolical  fiend  !  Jiow  vexest  thou  this  man! 
Talkest  thou  nothing  but  of  ladies?*)  —  The  Sketcher  then  proceeds  to 
say,  that  "the  young  Earl  of  Percy  was  her  decided  favourite,"  and,  with 
a  rare  talent,  contrives  to  embody  a  trait  of  simple  conjugal  tenderness 
in  the  midst  of  the  most  brilliant  qualities  somewhat  opposed  to  it,  as 
follows  : — 

"  She  presided  at  table  with  dignity  and  grace,  at  once  gratifying  her 
husband's  ambition,  and  his  vanity  ;  taking  her  full  share  in  the  conver- 
sation, and  often  leading  it,  even  upon  important  topics,  in  those  days  of 
high  political  excitement.  When  her  husband  was  irritable  from  the 
gout,  she  soothed  him  by  her  blandishments.  She  loved  admiration,  and 
obtained  it,  etc."  [Myster.  Bridal,  chap.  ix.  Tales  and  Sk.  —  Such  &.c. 
Vol.  ii.  p.  88.]  For  our  own  poor  part,  we  are  so  charmed  with  the 
effect  of  this  inserting  in  the  embroidery  of  the  work,  that  we  have  for- 
sworn Aristotle  for  ever,  —  though,  perhaps,  it  is  a  specimen  of  skill 
which  it  may  be  difficult  to  imitate.  It  beats  Kippis  on  the  Bishop  of 
DuRHAM,t  and  is  only  matched  by  Justice  Shallow,J  or  by  the  book 
of  Samuel  "§  itself. 

*  Twelfth  Night :  A.  iv.  Sc.  2.  *  * 

t  Dr.  Kippis,  in  his  Life  of  Bishop  Butler,  has  this  queer  passage  :  —  "  His 
benevolence  was  warm,  generous,  and  diffusive.  Whilst  he  was  bishop  of  Bris- 
tol, he  expended,  in  repairing  and  improving  the  episcopal  palace,  four  thousand 
pounds,  which  is  said  to  have  been  more  than  the  whole  revenues  of  the  bishopric 
amounted  to,  during  his  continuance  in  that  see.  Besides  his  private  benefac- 
tions, etc."  It  is  very  possible,  that  the  biographer  considered  this  expenditure  on 
the  episcopal  palace  as  the  act  of  a  warm,  generous,  and  diffusive  benevolence. 
If  so,  it  is  a  fault  of  sense  and  not  of  style.  See  Works  of  Bp.  Butleb.  Vol.  I. 
p.  xvii.     Edin.  1804. 

J  Slial.  —  death,  as  the  Psalmist  saith,  is  certain  to  all ;  all  shall  die.  How  a 
good  yoke  of  bullocks  at  Stamford  fair  ? 

Sil.    Truly,  cousin,  I  was  not  there. 

Slial.    Death  is  certain.     Is  old  Double  of  your  town  living  yet  ? 

Sil.     Dead,  sir. 

Shal.  Dead!  —  See,  see! — he  drew  a  good  bow;  and  dead! — he  shot  a  fine 
shoot :  *  *  »    Dead !  *  *  *    How  a  score  of  ewes  now  ? 

Sil.    Thereafter  as  they  be  :  a  score  of  good  ewes  may  be  worth  ten  pounds. 

Slial.    And  is  old  Double  dead  ! 

2d  Pi.  Hen.  IV.  A.  iii.  Sc.  ii.        *  * 

^  And  Mephibosheth  had  a  young  son,  whose  name  was  Mica  :  and  all  that 


280  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

While  poufs  of  gauze,  and  ribands  in  a  row, 
Make  the  tale  glitter  like  a  raree-show. 
All  which  the  Hudson  heard  of  old  with  joy, 
When  SciPio  sung  them  to  the  growing  boy,  coo 

And  taught  his  rocks  to  echo  to  the  sound, 
Till  the  Sun  slept,  and  walk'd  the  white-rob'd  Moon 
her  round. 

Ver.  667,  638.  IVhile  poufs  of  gauze,  etc.  j 

-■ —  vos  tenui  prsegnantem  stamine  fusUm 

Penelope  melius,  levius  torquetis  Arachne.* 
"  Every  lane's  end,  every  shop,  church,  session,  hanging,  yields  a 
careful  man  work,"  says  Autolycus  :  f  and  thus  every  thing  comes, 
handy  to  Rubeta  ;  hut  especially  every  thing  connected  with  the 
ladies.  There  is  his  true  element;  c'est  un  vrai  pilier  de  toilette.  For  ex- 
ample, in  the  same  Tale  or  Sketch,  mantua-making :  —  "  pouf  of 
gauze  "...  "  plain  gauze  caps,  after  the  form  of  the  elders  and  an- 
cients of  a  nunnery,"  (though  what  sort  of  elders  and  ancients  tliese 
are,  it  is  not  said.)  JVosler  illis,  as  Casa€bon  writes  of  Persids,|  jYoster 
iliis  potissinium  qu(B  rebus  addere  pondics  sunt  idonece,  el  hSo'ToA'a.  *«* 
ha^ytla,  pene  regnal.  "  They  wore  large  gauze  handkerchiefs  upon 
their  necks,  with  four  satin  stripes  around  the  border,  two  of  which  were 
narrow  and  the  others  broad." 

Rede  fads  *  *  canssime.  qui  ita  diligenter  studiis  incumbis,  ut  etiam  mu- 
nitiora  qur^que  pcrpendas :  quod  si  aliquifacerent  sludiosi  *  *  non  in  tantis 
ignoranlifE  tcnebris  versaremur.  Barth.  Fontids  de  Mens,  et  Ponderibus 
in  Epist.  ad  Franc.  Sax.  quse  Persii  ad  calcem  ed.  Merul^  Venetiis 
impress.  1494. 

689  —  692.  All  which,  etc.] 

Omnia  quse,  Phcebo  quondam  meditante,  beatus 
Audiit  Eurotas,  jussitque  ediscere  lauros, 
lUe  canit ;  pulsse  referunt  ad  sidera  valles  : 
Cogere  donee  oves  stabulis,  numerumque  referre 
Jussit,  et  invito  processit  Vesper  Olympo. 

ViRG.  Eel.  vi.  82  -  86. 

dwelt  in  the  house  of  Ziba  were  servants  unto  Mephibosheth. 

So  Mephikosiieth  dwelt  in  Jerusalem  :  for  he  did  eat  continually  at  the 
Kinii's  table  ;  and  was  lame  on  both  his  feet.     2d  Sanmel :  chap.  ix.  12,  13. 

*  Juv.  ii.  55.  ** 

t    WitUer's  Tale:  A.  iv.  Sc.  3.         *  « 

I  In  the  Prolegomena  of  his  edition.        *  * 


CANTO   FOURTH.  281 


Then  came  Matthias,  sold  by  Scandal's  aid ; 
Dragg'd  by  his  own  brave  efforts  from  the  shade. 


693,  694.  Then  came  Matthias,  sold  by  ScandaVs  aid ;  —  Dragg'd  by 
his  oion  brave  efforts  from  the  shade.]  The  import  of  the  text,  in  both 
members  of  the  sentence,  may  be  gathered  from  Rdbeta's  own  review 
of  his  own  book,  which  is,  in  epitome,  as  follows : 

"Matthias,"  »yc.  Sj-c. 
"  Such  is  the  title  of  a  very  handsome  oclodesimo,  published  this  day  by  the 
great  bibliopoles  of  Cliff-street.  The  reader  will  perceive,  from  the  name  of  the 
author,  the  delicacy  of  our  position  in  writing  a  notice  of  it.  But  if  forbidden  by 
modesty"  (multum  est  demissus  homo)  "to  praise  the  style  and  manner  in  jchick 
the  icork  is  ivritten,  it  is  otherwise  with  regard  to  the  strange  and  extraordinary  facta 
it  developes."  *  *  *  "The  writer  has  traced  the  progress  of  this  lamentable  men- 
tal disease  "  (fanaticism,)  "  step  by  step,  through  its  multitudinous  ramifications, 
and  unless  he  is  greatly  deceived,  he  has  in  this  volume  presented  the  public  with 
the  most  extraordinary  chapter  in  the   history  of  delusion,   and    the    mysteriou."? 

WORKINGS    OF    THE     HUMAN     MIND,    THAT     HAS    EVER     BEEN     PUBLISHED    OR 

written."     ****    —  "the  interest   of  which   will  be  yet' farther  enhanced   by 

the  personal  narrative  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  [the    name    given   in   full,  as  was 

done  in  the  cases  mentioned  at  v.  246  of  Cto.  iii.]  of  the  origin  of  their  acquaint- 
ance with  the  false  prophet,  and  of  the  proceedings  of  the  whole  community  at  Sing- 
Sing.  This  narrative  forms  an  extraordinary  chapter  of  the  book. 
—  But  the  public  will  doubtless  read  and  judge  for  themselves.  The  Harpers 
have  brought  out  the  volume  in  very  pretty  style,  and  we  doubt  not  that  it  will  be 
sought  by  the  reading  public  with  avidity."     N.  Y.  Comm.  Adv.  July  8,  1B33. 

It  has  given  us  much  pleasure  to  separate  from  the  lumber  of  bil^ 
ious  pills,  corn-plasters,  and  Russia  diapers,  this  precious  evidence  of 
Rubeta's  virginal  modesty,  imprinted  on  the  sheets  of  his  journal ;  and 
we  only  regret  that  its  length  in  the  original  did  not  permit  us  to  copy 
it  entire.  We  will  but  add  from  the  same  remarkable  notice,  this  one 
sentence,  which  contains  a  sentiment  so  applicable  to  his  own  case  :  — 

"The  design  of  the  writer,"  (says  the  aiUocrilic,)  "was  not  only  to 
make  an  historical  record  of  facts  important  in  themselves,  but  to  raise  a 
warning  voice  against  the  indulgence,  by  Christian  professors,  of  a  self- 
righteous,  a  censorious,  and  a  fanatical  spirit,  by  showing  to  what  ex- 
cesses it  may  lead."  If  the  reader  recollect  the  facts  stated  at 
V.  246  of  the  preceding  Canto,  or  will  have  the  complaisance  to  turn  to 
them,  he  will  see  at  once  how  justly  this  Aristides  has  condemned  him- 
self. 

Having  added  this  portion,  we  proceed,  in  conclusion,  to  observe,  that 
there  is  a  great  similarity  between  the  advertisement  just  cited  and  that 
of  an  equal  genius,  Mr.  Tugs.  Downing,  Carpet-shaker  and  Oysterman 
36 


282  THE   VISIOiN    OF   RUBETA. 

Him  follow'd  Anti-Mary ;  last,  the  sheets  695 

Where  Folly's  self  with  Craft  and  Dotage  meets. 

All  works  of  j)ith  ;   five  sons  ;  yet,  great  and  small, 

Thy  journal  holds  the  marrow  of  them  all. 

Proud  journalist !  and  bulky-big  as  proud  ! 

And  loud  as  bulky-big  !  sand  dull  as  loud  !  7oo 

And  pert  as  dull  !  and  ludicrous  as  pert ! 

Fit  weed  (or  none  fit  else)  to  vegetate  in  dirt ! 

Alas!  a  tougher  fork  should  spread,  as  th'  use  is. 

The  fragrant  compost  where  thy  root  finds  juices. 


in   Manhattan;  whose  parallel  review  of  his  own  performances  is  as 
follows :  — 

"  To  Merchants  and  Others.  —  Having  received  a  very  superior  lot  of 
fine  oysters,  which  1  have  pickled  in  that  superior  style  ichich  I  have  been  accnstomed 
to  do  for  my  customers  for  a  number  of  years,  I  have  them  already  for  exportation 
or  family  use,  and  shall  be  happy  to  fulfil  all  orders  that  you  may  please  to  favor 
me  with. 

^  "  Thos.  Downing,  3,  5,  and  7  Broad  st. 

"N.  B. — Collations,  suppers,  &c.,  [the  decocted  rapes  and  nicely-kneaded 
puffs  of  the  newsman,]  served  up  at  the  shortest  notice." 

Had  Mr.  Thos.  Downing,  instead  of  saying  he  should  be  happy  to 
fulfil  all  orders,  &c.,  but  wound  up  his  card  in  the  style  of  Rubeta,  and 
declared  he  did  not  doubt  his  oysters  would  be  sxoalloived  by  the  eating 
public  with  avidity,  he  would  have  been  in  nothing  inferior  to  his  rival 
huckster  and  fellow-classic.  As  it  is,  he  must  yield  the  palm  in  modesty 
to  the  liawker  of  Matthias. 

695.  —  Anti-Mary  —  ]     "  Visit,  &c."         *  * 

695,  696.  —  the  sheets  —  Where  Folly^s  self  with  Crajl  and  Dotage  vieets.'\ 
"  Letter,  «Sic." 

699-702.  Proud  journalist !  etc.] 

Sweet  harmonist !  and  beautiful  as  sweet ! 
And  young  as  beautiful  !  and  soft  as  young ! 
And  gay  as  soft !  and  innocent  as  gay ! 
And  happy  (if  aught  happy  here)  as  good  ! 

YouNc.   .Yight  Th.  —  .Varcmcr. 


CANTO  FOURTH.  283 

Yet  should  kind  Heaven  impart  me  length  of  days,  705 
And  the  soul  worthy  to  exalt  thy  praise, 
Not  Bowles'  dull  Birthday  should  surpass  my  strain. 
Nor  lovely  Hunt's  bold  Captains,  Sword  and  Pen, 

Ver.  705  -  712.   Yet  should  kind  Heaven  —  etc.] 

O  mihi  tarn  longre  maneat  pars  ultima  vitse, 

Spiritus  et,  quantum  sat  erit  tua  dicere  facta ! 

Non  me  carminibus  vincet  nee  Thracius  Orpheus, 

Nee  Linus;  huic  mater  quamvis,  atque  huic  pater  adsit, 

Orphei  Calliopea,  Lino  formosus  Apollo. 

Pan  etiam  Arcadia  mecum  si  judice  certet, 

Pan  etiam  Arcadia  dicat  se  judice  victum. 

Y iRG.  Pollio  :  53-59. 
707  and  709.  J\'ot  Bowles'  dull  Birthday  should  surpass  my  strain,  — 
Though  [she]  shoidd  nod  o^er  vulgar  Wordsworth's  lyre,]  See  the  Birth- 
Day,  a  Poem,  by  Caroline  Bowles,  who,  following  a  bad  example, 
mistakes,  at  times,  vulgarity  for  simplicity.  Witness  the  following 
lines:  — 

"  Lo !  what  a  train,  like  Bluebeard's  wives  appear. 
So  many  headless !  half  dismembered  some. 
With  battered  faces  —  eyeless  —  noseless  —  grim, 
With  cracked  enamel,  and  unsightly  scars  — 
Some  with  bald  pates,  or  hempen  wigs  unfrizzed, 
And  ghastly  stumps,  like  Greenwich  pensioners ; 
Others  mere  Torsos —  arms,  legs,  heads,  all  gone, 
But  precious  all."  * 
Again :  — 

"  These  clove  pinks 
Yield  not  such  fragrance  as  the  true  old  sort 
That  spiced  our  pot-pourrie  (my  mother's  pride) 
With  such  peculiar  richness,  and  this  rose. 
With  its  fine  foreign  name,  is  scentless,  pale, 

Compared  with  the  old  cabbage." 

And  once  more :  — 

"  '  This  is  Missy's  work  !' 
Quoth  the  old  man,  and  shook  his  head  and  smiled  — 
'  Lord  bless  her  !  how  the  child  has  toiled  and  moiled 

*  See,  for  the  original  of  this  famous  picture,  the  continuation  of  liie  Autlior's  note, 
at  the  end  of  the  volume.  *  * 


284  THE   VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

Though  that  should  nod  o'er  vulgar  Wordsworth's 

lyre, 
And  this  his  mother  Dulness  still  inspire:  7io 


To  scrape  up  all  this  rubbish.     Here  's  enough 
To  load  a  jackass  ! '  " 
Miss  Caroline's   dolls,  cabbage-roses,  and  jackasses,  arc  precisely 
drivelling  Wordsworth's  babies,  daisies,  and  ponies;  and  the  last  ex- 
tract, especially,  has  all  that  trifling  vulgarity,  or,  to  use  Mr.   Words- 
worth's own  expression,  "the  triviality  and  meanness  both  of  thought 
and  language,"*    which  distinguish  the  taste  of  that   "mild  apostate 
from  poetic  rule,"  f  who  would  teach  the  world,  that  to  copy  nature  is  to 
paint  her  only  in  the  stable  and  the  nursery,  and  that  lofty  language, 
magnificence  of  imagery,  and  that  art  which,  by  selecting   the  more 
striking  features  of  a  scene,  and  discarding  all  that  is  little,  and  unin-" 
terestingly  accessory,  curtails  description  of  its  tediousness  while  en- 
hancing its  effect,  that  these  are  quite  unworthy  of  a  poet,  nay,  are  to 
be  directly  avoided;]:  such  being  the  decision  of  him 
"  Who  both  by  precept  and  example  shows 
That  prose  is  verse,  and  verse  is  merely  prose."  § 

[The  rest  of  the  note  being  too  long  to  be  inserted  here,  it  ivill  be  found 
continued  at  (he  end  of  the  volume.         *  *  "^ 

708.  — Hunts  bold  Captains,  Sword  and  Pen  ;]  "  Capt.  Sword  and 
Capt.  Pen.     A  Poem.      By  Leigh  Hunt.     With  some  Remarks,  &c." 

"  As  a  specimen  of  Mr.  Hunt's  versification,"  (says  some  one  of  the 
English  magazines,  —  we  do  not  know  which,  as  we  copy  from  the  N.  Y. 
Albion,)  "  and  of  his  graphic  power,  take  the  following  excerpt  from  a 
battle-scene :  — 


*  Preface  to  the  Lyrical  Ballads. 

t  Byron  of  Wordsworth,  in  the  English  Bards.  SfC. —  We  are  told,  that,  in  a 
recent  number  of  an  American  review,  JMr.  Wordsworth  is  pronounced  to  be  a 
critic,  and  Lord  Byron  not  to  have  been  such!  As  for  his  lordship's  critical  abilities, 
we  know  loo  little  of  his  com))ositions  to  pronounce  upon  them,  but  we  do  know, 
that  the  man  who  wrote  the  above  line  on  the  poet  of  the  Lakes  showed,  at  a  boy's 
age,  the  judgment  of  a  man,  while  the  author  of  the  Lyrical  Ballads  has  never  been 
otherwise  than  puerile,  saving  when  apostate  from  his  own  rules. 

J  "  There  will  also  be  found  in  these  volumes,"  (says  Mr.  Wordsworth  in  his 
Preface.)  "little  of  what  is  usually  called  poetic  diction;  1  have  taken  as  much 

PAINS  to  avoid  it  AS  OTHERS  ORDINARILY  TAKE  TO  PRODUCE  IT  [  !  !  !  ]."      For 

the  "  pains,"  credal  Judm^is. 
^  English  Bards,  ^-c.  '  * 


CANTO  FOURTH.  285 

John  Waters  even,  should  he  brush  the  string, 
Waters  should  drop  his  "  conch  "  to  hear  mo  sing ! 

"  Death  for  dcatli !     The  storm  begins ; 

Rush  the  drums  in  a  torrent  of  dins  ; 

Crash  the  muskets,  gash  the  swords ; 

Shoes  grow  red  in  a  thousand  fords  ; 

Now  for  the  flint,  and  the  cartridge  bite  ; 

Darkly  gathers  the  breath  of  the  fght, 

Salt  to  the  palate  and  stingiiig  to  sight ; 

Muskets  are  pointed  they  scarce  know  -where ; 

No  matter :  Murder  is  cluttering  there  : 

Reel  the  hollows:  close  up  !  close  up  I 

Death  feeds  thick  ;  and  his  food  is  his  cup. 

Down  go  bodies,  snap  burst  eyes ; 

Ti'od  on  the  ground  are  tender  cries ; 

Brains  are  dashed  against  plashing  ears  ; 

Hah  !  no  time  has  battle  for  tears  ; 

Cursing  helps  better —  cursing,  that  goes 

Slipping  through  friends^  blood,  athirst  for  foes'. 

What  have  soldiers  with  tears  to  do  ?  — 

We,  who  this  mad-house  must  now  go  through. 

This  twentyfold  Bedlam,  let  loose  with  knives, 

To  murder  and  stab,  ayid  grotv  liquid  with  lives, 

Gasping,  staring,  treading  red  mud. 

Till  the  drunkenness^  self  makes  us  steady  of  blood?  " 
We  think  the  entire  "  specimen"  must  pass  for  unrivalled:  but  the  par- 
ticular passages  we  have  put  in  italic  type  "  contain  "  (as  Messrs.  Saun- 
DKRS    &.    Otlet   say    of    Mr.    fFillis^s   verse)   "the   true   essence   of 
poetry," 

708.  —  vulgar  WoBDswoRTB  —  ]     Consult  the  ^^ppendix.  *  * 

711,  712.  John  Waters  even,  should  he  brush  the  stririg,  —  Waters 
should  drop  his  "  conch  "  to  hear  me  sing !  ]  John  Waters  is  a  favorite 
correspondent  of  the  judicious  Petromus's.  We  shall,  as  occasion 
serves,  trace  his  poetical  progress  for  the  benefit  of  the  reader,  who  will 
thus  be  enabled  to  form  a  correct  opinion  of  the  acute  judsfment,  deli- 
cate taste,  rich  experience,  and  critical  honesty  of  the  Manhattanese 
"  Arbiter  Elegantiarum."  Johi's  first  step  was  as  follows  :  — 
"  For  the  New  York  American. 
"  The  following  lines,  &c.  &,c. 

"John  Waters,  Hys  Springe. 

*  ■>  *  * 

"  Nought  was  more  pure,  agaync  I  '1!  synge, 
Fitte  draughle  for  Fancie's  (laughters  ; 


286  THE    VISIOiN   OF   RUBETA. 

What  stores  of  wit  and  wisdom  mingle  here  ! 
What  nursing  cares  for  chastity  appear  ! 

The  honest  manne  that  own'd  that  springe 
Chang'd  a  faire  name,  to  call  hymselffe  John  Waters  ! 

•'  Howe  stoode  the  caltel  in  yt  shade, 

Moyst'ning  their  hoofes  by  the  coole  strcame  ! 
Car'd  they  for  foode? —  Their  choyce  was  made, 
Like  those  who  dreame  of  love,  and  love  agayne  to  dreame. 

"  The  Traveller  bless'd  it  as  he  came  ; 

Prays'd  the  flalt  stones  that  round  it  stoode. 
Its  mossy  tronke,  —  '  Had  it  no  name  ?  ' 
He  quaff'd  agayne  — '  Waters  !  the  verie  name  is  goode  ! ' 
Etc.  etc.  etc. 

"  John  Waters." 
Ah,  exquisite  simplicitie  ! 

Welle  dost  thou  imitate  the  songe 
Of  auncient  times,  for  seem'th  it  me 
Its  polish  and  its  witt  to  thee  alyke  belonge, 
John. 

Tliis  "  Springe,"  which,  as  the  gentle  Petronius  says,  "  flowed 
so  charmingly  through  the  columns  of  the  American,"  produced  a  very 
singular  effect  for  a  spring  ;  it  "  opened  a  new  fount  of  sweet  waters  in 
a  neighbouring  State."  (JV.  Y.^^m.,  Aug.  27,  1837.)  The  new  fount  was 
something  clearer  than  the  parent  spring,  and  altogether  of  too  pleasant 
a  water,  though  not  very  deep,  to  have  its  marvellous  production  from 
such  a  muddy  source.  Thereupon,  Petronius  calls  it  beautiful.,  and 
bids  John  Waters  and  the  fountain  B.  (the  new  one)  "sing  on  "  Where- 
upon John  Waters  issues  out  in  a  new  channel  of  double  torrent-force 
tumbling  precipitous.  We  extract  the  introductory  lay,  and  the  third 
stanza,  of  which  Petronius  so  justly  asks,  "Who  has  seen  finer  lines?" 
But  stay !  we  must  begin  with  the  beginning,  and  let  the  same  usher 
introduce  the  poet  here,  that  goes  before  him  in  the  journal  of  the 
Muses :  — 

"John  Waters,  on  his  Spnng-^,  pours  forth  another  most  delightful  melody  to- 
day. The  poetry  of  the  mighty  deep  —  and  few  things  under  the  sun  are  so  poetical 
—  has  truly  inspired  this  lay,  of  which  the  imagery  is  at  once  natural  and  sublime. 
Who  has  seen  finer  lines  than  the  third  stanza  ? 

"  [For  the  New  York  American.] 
"  To  B. 
"Know'st  thou  John  Waters  ?    Know'st  him  '  well,'  dear  B.  ? 
His  boast  might  well  be,  to  be  known  of  thee, 
Being  of  love  celestial  !  —  wit,  —  song,  —  mirth,  — 
That  by  green  pastures  lead'st  thy  llock  o'er  earth  ! 


CANTO   FOURTH.  287 

Here  too  the  world  finds  study  held  in  scorn,         715 
And  sees,  with  open  eyes,  a  critic  born  ; 


Not  tlie  less  surely  heavenward,  I  opine, 

For  such  one  index  of  the  li(e  divine  ; 

And,  while  with  tliy  rich  blessing  we  are  grac'd, 

Who  doubts  if  hands  Episcojjal  were  plac'd, 

Or,  o'er  thy  brow,  the  blessed  sign  were  trac'd  !  — 

Would  thou  wert  ours  !  —  then,  ours  the  stainless  truth, 

The  eloquence  that  charms  gray  beard  and  youth. 

Conviction  nhedding  o'er  the  last;  the  former,  ruth. 

—  lu  distant  glades  I  caught  thy  sportive  strain, 

In  fancy  trode  with  thee  the  waves  again. 

And  sought  a  lyre  should  echo  thine,  —  in  vain  — 

Yet  once  my  fixgers  o'er  a  Conch  I  threw, 

And  since  my  verse  some  favor  wears  with  you. 

List  the  rude  notes  from  this  sea-shell  I  drew." 

Quere  : — In  the  third  line  of  this  introductory  Za?/,  "Being  of  love 
celestial  " ;  Anchises  ?  or  .^neas  ? 

All  the  rest,  we  confess,  is  beyond  our  comprehension,  and  is  there- 
fore to  be  considered  perfectly  sublime.  TVIio  has  ever  seen  a  finer  line 
than  the  twenty-sixth  ? 

"  Yet  once  my  fingers  o'er  a  Conch  I  threw." 
Delicious  that!  "Yet  once,  etc.":  perfectly  perfect !  so  descriptive  of 
the  instrument,  his  throwing  his  fingers  over  a  Conch!  (has  Ashton  any 
of  the  article  on  sale  ?  }  so  expressive  of  the  act,  "my  fingers  o''er,  etc." 
and,  lastly,  so  poetical,  "Yet  once  my  fingers  o'er  a  Conch  I  threw, — 
And,  &c.  &c." 

We  should  willingly  quote  the  whole  of  this  intelligible  and  most 
"  delightful  melody,"  but  can  only  spare  space  for  the  great  unsurpass- 
able, "  the  third  stanza  "  :  — 

"  But  no  !  —  no  line  of  foam,  — 
No  long-resounding  roll  that  booms  afar, — 
No  battling  wave  from  elemental  war. 
That  comes  to  die  at  home,"  — 
True,  we  do  not  understand  the  idea  about  the  wave's  coming  to  die 
at  home  ;  but  it  must  be  very  fine  :  — 

—  ITsA-Xa  [<r  a  (]  utr'  uyKU- 
yos  UKia,  (itXti 
"EvSov  ivTi  (pagir^as 
<l>»vSvTa  ffvviToiffiv, 

eh,  John  ?     Which  is  all  right.  —  And  here  rest,  darling,  for  tlie  present. 


PiKD.  Oli/mp.n.  \i'?. 


288  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Born  for  this  task,  to  cleanse  the  spotted  page, 
And  prop  the  morals  of  a  sliding  age. 


Ver.  711.  — should  he  brush  the  striiig,]  John's  conch  we  judge,  from  the 
action  of  the  mus\c\an''s  Jingers,  to  be  a  stringed  instrument :  — 

"  Yet  once  my  fingers  o'er  a  Conch  I  threw, 
And  since  my  verse  some  favor  finds  with  you. 
List  the  rude  notes  from  this  sea-shell  I  drew." 

We  cannot  believe,  tliat  any  thing  so  exquisite  could  be  blow7i  out  of 
a  common  Conch. 

713.  — mingle  here.']      In  the   "journal,"   doubtless.      See  v.  698. 

#  * 

75.  —  stores  of  ivit  —  ]  We  have  not  now  to  observe  for  the  first 
time,  that  the  Colonel  is  distinguished  for  facetiousness, 

joco  mordente  facetus, 

Et  salibus  vehemens  intra  pomseria  natis  ;* 

but  we  have  yet  to  give  a  specimen  of  his  peculiar  talent.  In  his  paper 
of  April  24, 18  — ,  f  noticing  a  juggler,  (the  honest  creature  notices  any- 
body that  will  pay  him,)  he  says :  "  His  doings  constitute  a  very  pleas- 
ing and  memorable  share  of  the  evening's  entertainment  at  the  Museum, 
although  there  are  many  other  great  attractions  —  Major  Stevens,  for 
example,  who  commands  admiration  by  being  very  small  [precisely  so 
printed]."  Funny  fellow  !  "  an  I  had  but  one  penny  in  the  world,  thou 
should'st  have  it,  to  buy  thee  gingerbread."  —  "  O,  an  the  heavens  were 
so  pleased  that  thou  wert  but  my  bastard  !  what  a  joyful  father  would'st 
thou  make  me  !  "  \ 

But  perhaps  the  best  specimen  of  liis  manner  should  be  found  in  his  book,  where 
it  is  probable  some  pains  were  taken  to  perfect  it.  Thus  the  commencement  of 
chap.  xi.  of  the  Mysl.  Brid. ;  which  is  printed  precisely  as  follows.  "  The  brisk 
reveillee  did  not  rouse  the  valiant  ira-mates  of  this  important  oiit-poBt  from  their 
slumbers,  «fec."  *  * 


•  Juv.  is.  10.  *  * 

t  The  year,  I  believe,  is  1835  ;  that  being  the  time  when  I  made  the  selections 
for  illustrations  of  this  part  of  the  satire,  which  was  intended  to  have  been  written 
and  published  in  that  year,  though  in  another  form.  I  beg  that  this  note  will  be 
particularly  observed  ;  because  the  remoteness  of  the  date  might  lead  one  to  sus- 
pect that  1  had  hunted  for  these  wretched  e.xamples  of  folly,  insignificance,  and, 
in  some  cases,  immorality,  in  the  newsman  ;  whereas  they  are  always  passages 
taken  at  random  from  his  and  other  papers  just  as  they  fell  under  my  eye.  Every 
day  will  furnish  the  like,  in  every  year. 

I  Love's  Labor's  Lost :  A.  v.  So.  1.  *  * 


CANTO  FOURTH.  289 

Here  unknown  wits  from  paradise  arc  driven, 

And  the  known  lift  their  tinscll'd  horns  to  heaven.  72o 

Ver.  714.  Jf'hat  nursing  cares  for  chastity  appear !  ]  This  chaste  gentle- 
man publishes,  on  his  first  page,  an  account  of  the  propagation  of  forni- 
cation by  the  whites  among  the  Hottentots,  with  certain  judicious 
and  succulent  remarks  upon  the  preference  of  Hottentot  women  for  Avhite 
men,  and,  lest  the  little  girls  should  omit  to  read  it,  he  inserts  a  para- 
graph in  the  body  of  his  paper,  directing  them  to  an  "  article  of  instruc- 
tive interest."  See  M  Y.  Comm.  Adv.  of  April  25th,  1835. 
Frontis  nulla  fides  :  quos  enim  non  vicus  abundat 
Tristibus  obsccnis  ?  * 

715,  716.  Here  too  the  world  finds  study  held  in  scorn,  — And  sees,  ivith 
open  eyes,  a  critic  born ;]  Criticus  noster  nascitur,  non  ft.  It  will  hardly 
be  believed,  out  of  New  York,  that  half  of  the  mass  of  ordinary  readers 
are  in  that  city  governed  in  their  literary  tastes  by  such  a  man  as  Ru- 
BETA  ;  a  man  so  totally  unfit,  as  well  from  defective  education  as  by 
reason  of  his  native  imbecility,  for  a  task  wliich,  according  to  the  master 
of  the  sublime,  is  the  last  fruit  of  much  experience.j  The  other  half  is  un- 
der the  rival  tutorage  of  Petroxics  :  of  which,  presently.  Young  says 
truly,  though  somewhat  clumsily  :  — 

Unlearned  men  of  books  assume  the  care, 
As  eunuchs  are  the  guardians  of  the  fair.  | 

717.  Born  for  this  task,to  cleanse  the  spotted  page,]  As  Baxter  says 
of  Rich.  Bentley:  —  "Magnus  Bentleius,  natus  emaculandis  Gras- 
corum  scriptis."  Annot.  in  HoR.  Serm.  Lib.  i.  Sat.  2.  edit.  Zeunii^ 
Lond.  1809,  8vo.  p.  303.  *  * 

See,  for  illustration  of  the  text,  the  note  to  v.  725,  726,  below.  A 
pleasant  contrast  to  the  case  there  cited  is  furnished  by  this  natural 
critic's  observations  on  Roderick  Random,  (in  1836).  "  Roderick,"  he 
mildly  says,  "  is  sometimes  coarse,  but  the  very  mirror  of  human  life  and 
character,  and  irresistibly  amusing.  But  who  needs  to  be  told  this  ?  " 
No  one  ;  but  we  should  wonder  to  hear  it  from  Rubeta's  virgin  lips, 
Avhich  abominate  all  naughtiness,  did  we  not  know  a  thing  or  two :  — 

Dat  veniam  corvis,  vexat  censura  columbas.§ 
Do,  dear  Colonel,  since  established  reputation  has  such  weight  with  you, 

•  Juv.  ii.  8.         *» 

f  —  )/  yap  tZv  \6yo)v  Kpiaii  ttoXX^j  fori  rti'paj  TiXtvTalov  tniyivvrjfxa.  LoNG. 
Sect.    vi.  *  * 

X  Love  of  Fame,  ii.  *  * 

§  Juv.  ii.  63.        *  * 

37 


290  THE   VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

Here  hoodwinked  Malice  takes  her  biding  rest, 
And  makes  e'en  crime  a  theme  of  pleasant  jest, 

do,  the  next  thing,  let  us  have  Clkland's  modest  work,  *  Avhich,  we 
would  bo  sworn  for  it,  has  never  been  out  of  print  since  it  was  burnt  by 
the  hangman. 

718.  Jlnd  prop  the  morals  of  a  sliding  age.'\ 

felicia  tempora,  quffi  te 

Moribus  opponunt!  habeatjam  Roma  pudorem.f 

"  Par-la  on  pent  voir  que  [le  Sieurde  Galimatias  n''est]  pas  seulementun 
habile  rheteur,  comme  Quintilien  et  comma  Hermogene,  mais  un  philo- 
sophe  digne  d'etre  mis  en  parallele  avec  les  Socrate  et  les  Caton.  Son  livre 
[The  Tales  and  Sk.]  n'a  rien  qui  demente  ce  que  je  dis.  Le  caractere 
d'honnete  homme  y  parait  par-tout,  et  ses  sentimens  ont  je  ne  sais  quoi 
qui  marque  non  seulement  un  esprit  sublime,  mais  une  ame  fort  elev^e 
au-dessus  du  commun."  The  reader  has  had  proof  of  this  assertion  in 
the  large  extracts  we  have  given  from  it ;  and,  for  our  own  part,  we  can 
add,  with  the  author  by  whose  mouth  we  have  just  been  speaking,  "  Je 
n'ai  done  point  de  regret  d'avoir  employ^  quelques-unes  de  mes  veilles  a 
d6brouiller  un  si  excellent  ouvrage,  que  je  puis  dire  n'avoir  ^t6  entendu 
jusqu'ici  que  d'un  tres-petit  norabre  de  savans."  Boileau  sur  Longin. 
Prt'face  de  la  Trad,  du  Truiti  du  Siihlime.  *  * 

719,  7.20.  Here  unknown  toils  from  paradise  are  driven,  —  »4/i(/  the  k}iotv7i 
lift  their  tinseWd  horns  to  hcaven.'[  Wiien  writers  of  little  celebrity  are 
concerned,  thus  speaks  the  candid  newsman-critic: — 

"The  Siege  of  Vienna.  Translated  from  the  German  of  Madame  Pichler. 
Philadelphia.  Key  &  Biddle.  Published  in  England  as  one  of  the  numbers  of 
Leitch  Ritchie's  Library  of  Romance,  —  a  collection  as  nniformly  bad  and  worthless 
as  any  of  which  we  have  any  knowledge.  The  present  work  is  worthy  of  the  com- 
pany in  which  it  first  appeared." 

This  is  said  of  a  collection  M-hcre  appeared,  if  I  mistake  not,  The 
iN'owlanshy  Bamm,  —  the  most  powerful  romance  since  the  days  of  Mat0- 
Rix,  from  the  best  writer  of  fiction  (saving  always  the  truly  excellent 
Miss  Edgeworth)  since  the  death  of  Scott. 

Now  let  us  see  how  the  honest  man  speaks  of  a  writer  of  great  celeb- 
rity. Here  he  fawns  as  much  as  he  barked  before.  However,  he  is  not 
singular  in  this  respect,  as  nearly  every  editor  in  the  Union  has  been 
guilty  of  equal  puppyism;  although,  in  reality,  a  tamer  book  than  the 
Crayon  Miscellany  has  rarely  been  written  in  these  times. 

*  Memoirs  of  u  Woman  of  Pleasure.  \  Jvv.  ii.  38. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  291 


Views  human  frailty  with  the  Devil's  own  grin, 
And  chuckles  grossly  at  suspected  sin  ; 


•■'  A  Tour  on  the  Praikies.  By  Washington  Irving.  Being  tlie  first  number 
of  the  'Crayon  Miscellany.'     Philadelphia.     Carey,  Lea,  &  Blanchard. 

"  We  have  hurried  through  Cicoffrey  Crayon's  pages,  —  the  interest  is  too  gre.at 
and  constant  to  admit  of  that  deliberate  perusal,  on  the  first  introduction,  which  is 
demanded  for  the  full  and  perfect  enjoijment,  —  and  without  waiting  for  the  second 
and  less  easrer  hut  more  delightful  reading  with  ichich  ice  most  assuredly  intend  to 
purchase  several  hours  of  high  gratification,  hasten  to  describe,  although,  it  may 
be,  feebly  and  inadequately,  the  impression  they  made  upon  us.  We  prepared 
ourselves  for  admiration  ;  we  fancied  we  could  anticipate  the  mode  in  which  the 
observant  eye  and  poetic  mind  of  Irvijig"  (God  forgive  us  !)  "had  dealt  with  the 
wonders  of  that  strange  region,"  &c.  &.C.  "  but  it  needed  a  fancy  like  his  cnvn  to 
form  a  conception  of  the  grace  and  beauty  with  ichivh  they  would  come  before  us  in  his 
limning."  Etc.  "  His  volume  is  a  gallery  of  pictures,  but  they  surpass  the  pro- 
ductions of  the  artist's  pencil,  for  we  see  them  move  and  act  in  the  stirring  im- 
pulses of  their  wild  nature  \\.he  AeyW  \  the  pictures  ?].  We  do  more,"  e<c.  "We 
enjoy  the  lavish  feast  that  quickly  follows  the  return  of  the  successful  hunters  ; 
fat  haunches  of  venison,  —  the  delicious  buffalo-hump,  —  pheasants,  and  wild  tur- 
keys without  number  [what  a  mouth  I],  —  bears'  paws,  and  huge  flakes  of  luscious 
honey,  the  plunder  of  some  mighty  bee-tree  that  has  just  been  felled."  Etc.  "  These 
and  such  as  these  are  the  objects  and  the  scenes  portrayed  in  Geoff'.  Crayon's  rich 
portfolio ;  and  not  in  sketches  merely,  but  in  higiily  wrought  and  finished  pictures." 

What   more,  if  we   omit  the    "  buffalo-hump "  and    "  bears'  paws," 

could  be  said  of  the  best  scene  in  Ivanhoe?  ay,  or  in  the  Iliad?  so  true 

it  is,  that 

''fools  admire,  but  inen  of  sense  approve." 

J^ote.  Although  our  chief  aim  is  levelled  at  the  newspaper-press,  yet 
should  we  be  ashamed  to  quote  so  largely  the  commonplaces  of  a  com- 
mon blockhead,  a  man  who  does  not  even  understand  the  language  in 
which  he  affects  to  write,  could  we  not  add,  to  our  mortification  as  an 
American,  that  the  same  gross  sycophancy,  and  nearly  the  same  ignor- 
ance of  composition,  disgrace  the  two  most  notable  of  our  Reviews. 

723,  7i24.  Views  human  frailty  ivith  the  DeviVs  own  grin,  —  Jlnd  chuckles 
grossly  at  suspected  sin;  ]  In  his  paper  of  Jan.  18th,  1838,  speaking  of  a 

new  publication,  the  "  evangelical  Christian  "  says  of  its  author :  " 

*  has  been  quite  in  a  confessing  mood  of  late  —  and  if  all  accounts 

are  true,  she  has  an  ample  store  of  material  for  the  confessional."  One 
would  have  thought  that  the  sex  might  have  saved  her,  with  the  "  chival- 
rous "  t  RuBETA ;  but  Scandal  is  not  dainty  in  its  diet,  and  it  is  always 
safer  levelling  at  a  woman,  especially  where  an  ocean  is  between.     For 

*  The  name  is  printed  in  full  in  the  journal.        •  * 
t  See  Canto  second,  v.  132,  note.        *  * 


292  Tin:  vision  of  rubeta. 

While  Envy,  smarting  at  a  woman's  fire,  735 

Bids  coxcomb  Gallantry  in  rage  expire. 

O  priceless  sheet !  where  modern  ethic  light 

Makes  private  vantage  still  the  test  of  right, 

(Divine  morality !  whose  lofty  part 

Finds  its  best  teacher  in  the  niggard  heart.)  730 


the  same  language,  applied  to  any  lady  in  his  own  country,  its  author 
had  tasted  a  rope's  end. 

7-3.5,  726.  While  Envy,  smarting  at  a  looman^s  fire,  —  Bids  coxcomb  Gal- 
lantry in  rage  expii-e.]  Though,  as  we  have  repeatedly  seen,  Rubeta 
to  the  sex  in  general  is  a  very  Troilus,  authoresses  are  excepted.  In 
the  calumny  we  have  cited  in  the  note  preceding,  this  modest  and  wor- 
thy man  goes  on  to  say:  —  "We  never  read  any  thing  of 's, 

if  we  can  help  it,  and  therefore  cannot  say  what  her"  [title  of  the  book]  "  are 
like."  This  is  pretty  cool  impudence  for  the  scribe  of  a  newspaper,  and 
a  two-shilling  pamphleteer,  to  spit  upon  one  of  the  most  talented  women 
in  Great  Britain,  whose  worst  paragraph,  or  most  insipid  line,  he 
would  hang  himself  to-morrow  only  to  be  thought  able  to  have  written. 

728.  Makes  private  vantage  still  the  test  of  right,]  In  the  N.  Y. 
Comm.  Adv.  of  Jan.  24,  1837,  the  moral  right  of  the  members  of  a  legis- 
lative body  to  receive  stock  in  a  bank  for  whose  charter  they  may  have 
voted  is  openly  defended.     Hear  the  good  man  :  — 

''The  sparring  in  the  Senate,  moreover,  in  regard  to  the  distribution  of  bank 
stock  among  its  members,  is  creditable  neither  to  that  body,  nor  to  the  members 
who  participate  therein.  Suppose  Colonel  Young  sold  a  lot  of  bank  stock  at  an 
advance,  in  Waterford  ?  And  suppose  General  Maison  subscribed  and  received 
stock  in  a  bank  in  his  own  county,  or  elsewhere  ?  Both  gentlemen  had  an  un- 
doubted right  to  do  so.  Nor  is  corruption  necessarily  inferable  in  either  case. 
Wlion  a  bank,  or  any  other  joint  stock  company,  has  been  incorporated,  and  the 
subscription  books  arc  opened  to  the  public,  every  citizen  has  an  equal  right  to 
subscribe." 

Again : 

'•  Has  not  a  .ludgc  as  good  a  right  to  invest  his  capital  as  another  man  ?  "  Etc. 
"ir  he  wishes  to  invest  a  few  hundred  dollars  in  bank  stock,  because  he  is  a  Judge 
does  it  follow  that  he  must  be  debarred  the  privilege  of  obtaining  it  at  par,  and  be 
compelled  to  purchase  at  a  premium  ?  These  are  paltry  views  of  public  matters, 
and  we  cannot  but  think  that  there  is  a  degree  of  squeamishness  abroad,  which  is  far 
more  nice  than  wise." 

729,  7.30.  Divine  morality !  whose  lofty  part  —  Finds  its  best  teacher  in 
the  niggard  heart.]  "  International  Copy  Right. — We  do  not  know" 


CANTO   FOURTH.  293 

Go  on  !   no  subject  known  thy  page  but  suits, 
From  arcade  baths  to  Cincinnati's  brutes. 


(says  Petro.mus)  "when  wo  have  seen  a  more  modest!  paragraph,  than 
the  annexed,  from  the  Comm.  Adv.  of  some  days  ago  : 

"International  Copy  Right.  —  In  compliance  with  the  request  of  the  British 
authors,  backed  by  the  solicitations  of  some  fifteen  or  twenty  native  writers,  who 
know  not  what  they  ask,  the  committee  to  which  the  matter  was  referred,  in  the 
Senate,  have  reported  a  bill  for  giving  copy  right  to  foreign  books.  It  will  be 
amusing,  if  the  bill  passes,  to  see  in  what  a  hurry  the  native  authors  will  be  to 
beg  for  its  repeal,  about  a  year  hence,  when  they  find  the  market  glutted  with 
reprints  of  all  the  worthless  volumes  that  issue  from  the  press  in  London,  by 
means  of  agencies  established  here  by  the  London  publishers  —  the  worst  books 
in  greatest  numbers,  because  the  publishers  have  least  to  pay  for  them  to  the  au- 
thors. The  wise  petitioners  think  that  American  authors  will  command  better 
prices,  when  the  international  copy  right  is  established  ;  very  likely,  when  the 
business  of  publishing  is  mainly  taken  away  from  the  American  publishers,  and 
thrown  into  the  hands  of  English  houses,  who,  of  course,  will  be  anxious  to  pay 
large  sums  for  American  copy  rights  !  Oh,  the  wisdom  of  political  and  literary 
tinkers  !  "     [Eugepce  .'] 

"  Now,  to  say  nothing  of  the  '  literary  tinkers '  —  who  ask  for  such 
a  bill,  and  who,  perhaps,  can  bear  the  sarcasms  of  the  Commercial  — 
it  is  just  possible  the  public  may  rate  the  wisdom  of  the  '  political  tin- 
kers '  in  the  Senate,  who  reported  the  bill  in  question — viz.  Messrs. 
Clay,  Preston,  Buchanan,  Webster,  and  Ewing,  of  Ohio  —  as  high  as 
that  of  the  Commercial  Advertiser,  and  deem  them  quite  as  disinterest- 
ed as  the  publishers,  in  whose  behalf  the  Commercial  steps  forth  — 
unpaid,  we  presume — as  its  paragraph  comes  not  in  the  shape  of  an 
advertisement."     jY.  Y.  Amtrican. 

But,  ray  dear  Petronius,  you  do  not  consider,  that  Messrs.  Clat, 
Preston,  Buchanan,  Webster,  and  Ewing  of  Ohio,  are  not  authors, 
while  RuBETA  of  Manhattan  is.  Impeach  his  liberality  in  such  a  mat- 
ter! Why,  man,  he  is  a  very  MsEcenas,  a  Proculeius,  a  Fabius,  a 
Cotta  in  fine,  another  Lentulus  !  * 

731.  —  no  subject  known  thy  page  but  suits.]  Rubeta  himself  be- 
ing every  thing. 

Ede,  quid  ilium 

Esse,  putos  ?  quemvis  hominem  secum  attulit  ad  nos, 
Grammaticus,  rhetor,  gcometres,  pictor,  aliptes, 

^  An  allusion  to  these  lines  of  Juvenal ; 

Quis  tibi  Maecenas  ?  quis  nunc  erit  aut  Proculeius, 

Aut  Fabius  ?  quis  Cotta  iterum  ?  quis  Lentulus  alter  ?     {Sat.  vii.  95.) 


294  THE  VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

Thy  correspondents  too  shall  lend  their  skill, 
And  thou,  their  father,  guide  each  scurvy  quill, 
And  see  in  wit  (whose  essence  never  dies)  "35 

Thy  Joel  Downings  mount  thee  to  the  skies. 


Augur,  sclioonobates,  incdicus,  maffus,  omnia  novit. 

esuriens  in  cffilum,  jusseris,  ibit. 

Juv.  iii.  74. 

Grammaliciis,  everywhere  :  rhttor,  in  his  lectures ;  geomelres,  when 
he  travelled  to  Montreal  ;  pidor,  as  you  will  presently  see  ;  aliples, 
see  the  next  note  ;  Jiugur,  in  the  affair  of  Matthias  ;  schcEnobates,  rope- 
dancer,  tumbler, —  equivalent  in  modern  times  to  a  merry-andreio ; 
viedicus,  see  Horne's  advertisement,  and  the  like,  in  his  paper :  magus, 
in  discovering  the  imposture  of  Misses  Monk  and  Partridge  by  the 
rabdomanchial  properties  of  his  "iron-pointed  cane  ";  omnia  novit,  no- 
body doubts ;  esuriens  in  calum,  jusseris,  ibit,  as  he  went  there  of  his 
own  accord  on  a  full  stomach,  [Letier  on  An.  Magn.)         *  * 

732.  —  arcade  baths  —  ]  See  N.  Y.  C.  A.  May  22d,  1835,  where 
the  newsman  does  his  proper  office  in  eulogizing  (doubtless  for  which 
"he  has  his  reward")  those  filthy  recesses  of  cleanliness,  which  hir- 
cum  olent,  or  did  then,  exhale  the  very  quintessence  of  boots  and  moist 
stockings,  the  "  Arcade  Baths  "  in  Manhattan. 

732.  —  Cincinnati's  brutes.]  "  Among  those  who  flourish  Avitli  the 
ablest  of  the  day,  is  a  '  whole  hog,'  weighing  one  thousand  four  hun- 
dred pounds.  He  is  said  to  be  fully  equal  to  the  most  resolute  and  de- 
termined 'of  the  whole  hog  family.  It  is  not  yet  known  how  this  im- 
portant personage  will  vote."  "  Correspondence  of  the  Coram.  Adv.^\ 
May  22,  1835. 

736.  Thy  Joel  Downings  —  ]  Rubeta,  like  C^sau,  is  ambitious: 
the  success  of  JIajor  Douming  stimulated  his  attic  bowels  to  a  like  con- 
ception, and  out  comes  the  Major's  cousin,  "Sargent  Joel."*  Upon  my 
honor,  Manhattan  may  congratulate  herself  on  the  fertility  of  a  womb, 
which  teems  with  such  bouncing  humor  as  the  following  :  — 

"  Hold  your  jaw,  you  fool,  says  he,  havent  I  got  a  lick-spittle  about  me,  that 


*  In  the  same  paper  which  soiiat  st7-igUibus,(l)  cleanses  the  Arcade  baths,  and 
has  the  communication  about  "  the  whole  hog  family." 


(1) bucca  foculum  cxcitat.  et  sonat  unctis 

Strigilibus Juv.  iii.  262.  *  * 


CANTO  FOURTH.  295 

But  spare  the  arts !  of  pictures,  O,  beware ! 

No  impudence  can  make  thee  specious  there. 

Ah  happy,  hadst  thou  hit  Ball  Hughes  alone. 

Nor  drawn  silk  stockings  on  a  leg  of  stone  !  740 

Still  happier,  if  old  bearded  Jerom's  skull 

Prove  not  thy  own  imperviously  dull, 

will  answer  the  purpose  for  a  month  or  so,  while  I  go  to  the  South  ?  Dont  you 
know *  ?  " 

Go  on,  my  lady;  drink  chocolate,  consult  Albertus  de  Secrelis,  and 
Aristotle's  chef-cfcBUvre,  and  let  us  have  many  more  such  christen- 
ings. Meantime  thy  correspondent  shall  drive  together  all  the  little 
Corporation-pigs,  and  sacrifice  for  thy  delivery. 

Montium  custos  nemorumque,  Virgo, 

Quae  laborantes  utero  puellas 

Ter  vocata  audis,  adimisque  leto,  f 
Favor  a  Colonel ! 
739,  740.  Ah  happy,  hadst  thou  let  Ball  Hughes  alone,  —  JVor  drawn 
silk  stockings  on  a  leg  of  stone  !  ]  There  was  a  remarkably  fine  statue 
of  Alexander  Hamilton  in  the  Merchants'  Exchange  at  New  York, 
previously  to  the  great  fire.  It  was  the  work  of  Mr.  Hughes,  an  Eng- 
lish sculptor,  now,  I  believe,  a  citizen  of  the  U.  States.  Of  this  mon- 
ument, thus  speaks  our  virtuoso:  — 

'■■  The  costume  is  that  of  the  time  in  which  Hamilton  flourished  as  a  statesman 
and  public  orator;  a  coat  with  upright  collar,  small-clothes,  silk  stockhio;s,  and  the 
prescriptive  oratorical  mantle  or  toga,  knotted  upon  the  left  shoulder  and  falling 
away  behind  in  a  rich  mass  of  flowing  drapery  ;  thus  obviating  the  trim  formal 
appearance  of  the  close-setting  garments  peculiar  to  enlightened  nations."  N.  Y. 
Comm.  Adv.     April  20th.  %  *  * 

741,  742.  Still  happier,  if  old  bearded  Jerom's  skull  —  Prove  not  thy  oivn 
imperviously  didl,  ]  "  We  promised,  last  week,  to  give  at  an  early  day 
our  impressions  of  the  works  of  art  now  in  the  course  of  exhibition  at 
the  gallery  of  the  American  Academy  in  Barclay  street ;  a  promise 
which  we  noiv  proceed  to  fulfil  with  all  candor,  and  the  best  judgment  of 
tvhich  we  are  capable,  in  relation  to  a  subject  demanding  so  much  caution, 
and  upon  tvhich  even  the  most  able  critics  are  so  liable  to  error.^'  This, 
truly,  for  a  man  who  perhaps  never  saw  an  original  painting  in  his  life, 

*  The  name  of  ahigh  officer  of  the  commonwealth,  who,  openly,  is  thus  honored. 
And  the  speaker,  of  this  decent  language,  is  made  to  be  the  President  of  the  U. 
States ! 

t  HoR.     Ode  in  Dianam.     (Carm.  iii.  22.)  *  * 

X  See  note  (*)  on  the  following  page.        *  * 


296  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

And  hideous  Dalilas  sore  make  thee  rue 

Thou  ever  didst  from  snuff-box  learn  virtu  ! 

Lo,  where  the  painter's  drudge,  thy  cant  that  hears,  745 

Daubs  on  tlie  wall  a  colonel  with  long:  ears  ! 

Stick  to  thy  verses  :  these  in  time  may  sell. 

And  aid  thy  patrons  much,  if  polish'd  well. 

save  his  own  portrait,  and  liis  noiglibour's  sign,  is  a  specimen  of  critical 
boldness  that  does  Rubeta  credit.  However  : — "  The  St.  Jerome  "  (he 
says)  "is  what  we  should  call  a  daub,  a  badly  drawn  figure,  in  an  awk- 
ward and  unmeaning  attitude,  with  flesh  of  the  color  of  putty,  and 
scarcely  an  attempt  at  keeping;  or  perspective.  It  is  called  a  Da  Vinci  in 
the  catalogue,  but,  with  all  deference,  u-e  take  leave  to  express  our  firm 
co'vicTioM'HAT  Da  Vi>'ci  NEVER  TOUCHED  IT."  Comvi.  Adv.  April  31.* 

743.  —  hideous  Dalilas  ]  —  "  the  Delilah  is  hideous,  and  withal 
badly  painted."        Ihid. 

744.  Thou  ever  didst  from  snuff-box  learn  virtu;]  "As  for  the  St. 
Jerome,  we  marvel  how  any  body  that  has  seen  even  the  engravings 
from  Da  Vinci's  Last  Supper,  could  suppose  for  a  moment  that  this  tvas 
the  work  of  the  same  master  [the  engraver.]  "     Ih. 

Representations  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  after  the  print  by  Morghen, 

are,  as  every  body  knows,  a  very  common  ornament  of  snuff-boxes. 

#  * 

745, 746.  Lo,  where  the  painter'' s  drudge,  etc.]  "  Sed  et  in  officina  im- 
perite  multa  disserenti  [sc.  Alexandre]  silentium  comiter  suadebat 
[Apelles],rideri  cum  dicens  a  pueris  qui  colores  tererent."  Plin.  Hist. 
JVat.  XXXV.  12. 

When  the  papal  nuncio  at  Viknna  preached  the  funeral  sermon  of  Prince 
EuGK.NE,  he  compared  the  illustrious  dead  to  Alexander  of  Macedon.  The 
great  Rubeta  shares  an  equal,  nay,  a  greater  honor  :  for  Eugene  was  but  the  par- 
allel of  Alexander  in  conquest,  Rubeta  is  his  match  in  art :  that  wore  his  lau- 
rels as  the  price  of  blood,  and  thousands  of  Turks  cry  out  in  Hell  against  him  5 
this  patronizes  talent  which  no  one  else  would  foster,  and  the  stomachs  of  ne- 
glected artists  rejoice  in  the  discernment  of  the  Angerstein  of  Churcli-st.     *  * 

748.  And  aid  thy  patrons  much  —  ]  In  advertisements  of  barbers, 
quacks,  and  others.  Indeed,  who  knows  but  the  poet  of  Copenhagen 
Porter,  which 

"  Proves  itself  exhilarating 
Without  being  intoxicating," 

*  Of  1835,  I  think  ;  this  being  another  part  of  the  text  which  was  written  and 
intended  to  be  published  in  that  year. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  297 

With  care,  no  song  would  equal  thine  't  is  plain, 
Save  Aristotle  King's  John  Waters^  strain  :  750 

(What  if  the  same  should  rival  Ph^bus'  own  ; 
Or  match  May's  rutting  bullfrogs'  raucous  drone  ?) 
But  for  plain  sense,  or  any  sense  at  all, 
Despair  to  reach  it !   backward  must  thou  fall ; 
Jerk'd  by  Conceit,  by  Ignorance  held  down,  755 

While  Dulness'  solid  lead  weighs  on  thy  crown. 
Sooner  shall  King  on  sacred  Irving  pounce. 
Or  snivelling  Anthon  cease  to  mispronounce  ; 
Brownlee,  whom  pedantry  with  passion  balks. 
Match  thee,  great  Channing!  or  corrival  Hawks;  7G0 


may  be  that  immortal  journeyman  of  Phckbus,  our  own  Rubeta? 
There  is  certainly  much  affinity,  in  this  sublime  couplet,  with  the  psal- 
mody on  David's  Sepulchre. 

',bi.  What  if  the  same,  etc.  ] 

Quid  si  idem  certet  Phcebum  superare  canendo  ? 

ViRG.  Daphn.  9. 

767.  —  sacred  Irving  —  ]  Not  Irving  the  preacher,  but  Mr. 
Washington  Irving,  who  is  sacred,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  with 
Petronius,  —  as  we  shall  presently  discover,  to  the  honor  of  all  jour- 
nalists.        *  * 

758.  Or  snivelling  Anthon  cease  to  mispronounre  ;  ]  The  Rev.  Hen. 
Anthon,  of  St.  Mark's  (I  believe),  in  New  York;  admirable  for  the 
delicate  nasal  intonation  with  which  he  delights  the  lovers  of  pure 
yankee,  and  for  the  precision  with  which  he  accentuates  English  words ; 
being  to  spoken  English  what  Petronius  is  to  the  written. 

759.  Brownlee,  ivhom,  etc.  ]  W.ii.  C.  Brownlee,  Doctor  in  Di- 
vinity, is  a  Scotch  Presbyterian  clergyman  of  Neav  York,  editor  of  the 
Protestant  Vindicator,  and  author  of  sundry  violent  polemical  tracts, 
the  spleen  whereof  is  entirely  bestowed  upon  that  poor  devil  the  Pope, 
whose  ear,  once  a  week,  burns  in  the  Vatican,  through  the  mere  report 
of  the  audacity  of  his  great  enemy,  which  the  birds  of  the  air  take  pains 

38 


298  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Or  cv'ry  rogue  that  jaunts  it  up  and  down, 
Licens'd  of  trade  to  bleed  and  purge  the  town, 
By  any  but  his  dupes  be  thought  to  share 
Both  Warren's  talents  and  the  heart  of  Ware. 
Let  Noah,  who  's  sense,  turn  critic  once  a  week,  765 
Webb  lecture,  if  he  will,  who  knows  to  speak ; 


to  carry  to  him  regularly.  The  Doctor  is  moreover  a  novelist.  But  to 
the  text :  —  This  reverend  gentleman,  in  addition  to  the  other  lights 
which  he  aft'ords  his  congregation,  is  said  to  make  his  pulpit  a  tribunal 
of  criticism,  where  even  the  poet  Byrox  has  been  handled  so  severely; 
because  of  his  naughtiness,  that  I  have  no  doubt  his  spirit  would  rise  up 
into  the  very  temple,  to  rebuke  his  castigator,  did  not  the  violence  of  the 
foe's  gesticulations  act  in  terrorem,  and  keep  the  salamander  trembling 
in  purgatory.        *  * 

760.  Hawks;]  The  eloquent  rector  of  the  church  of  St.  Thomas,  in 
New  York.  He  has  recently  been  appointed  professor  of  rhetoric  and 
oratory  at  a  college  in  Flushing,  (Long  Island):  and  in  these  two 
offices,  for  which  he  is  well  fitted,  lie  mW  have,  it  is  hoped,  enough  to 
occupy  him,  without  giving  vent  to  an  un-sacerdotal  and  un-Christian 

asperity*  to  enliven  that  hum-drum  magazine,  the  JVeio  York  Review. 

*  # 

764.  —  Warrex  —  fFARE.]  Distinguished  physicians,  of  Boston. 
It  gives  us  pleasure  to  record  the  latter  gentleman,  who  has  not 
lost  his  modesty  in  his  success,  nor  forgotten  either  his  benevolence  or 
integrity,  in  the  practice  of  a  profession  that  more  than  any  other, 
saving  one  (which  we  wish,  with  all  our  heart,  the  devil  Avould  take,  and 
give  us  back  the  time  we  have  wasted  in  it !),  tends  to  make  a  man  for- 
get his  humanity  by  the  very  means  that  should  most  increase  it. 

766-772.    Li  I,  rtc] 

Excudent  alii  spirantia  mollius  sera, 
Credo  equidem ;  vivos  ducent  de  marmore  vultus  ; 
Orabunt  causas  melius,  calique  meatus 
Describent  radio,  et  surgentia  sidera  dicent: 


*  See,  for  instance,  in  the  N.  Y.  Reinew,  a  violent  article  upon  the  Life  of  Burr.  A 
minister  of  the  gospel  should  lie  of  no  party  ;  nor  should  a  teacher  of  Christian  morals 
forget,  that,  as  no  man  is  so  good  as  he  would  appear  to  be,  so  is  none  so  evil  as  his 
enemies  would  represent  him.  *  * 


CANTO  FOURTH.  299 

French  leave  to  Price,  whose  lyre  is  mute  too  soon, 
And  pleasantry  to  Locke,  that  clumb  the  moon  ; 
But  thou,  Rubeta!  lie,  to  serve  thy  ends; 
Foul  all  with  slander,  even  to  thy  friends ;  770 


Tu  regere  iniperio  populos,  Romano,  memento  ; 
Has  tibi  erunt  artes  ;  pacisque  imponere  morem, 
Parcere  subjectis,  et  debellare  superbos. 

ViRG.  JEn.  vi.  848  -  854. 
7«5.  NoAB —  ]     Editor  of  the  Evening  Star,  in  New  York. 

766.  Webb  lecture  if  he  tvill,  ivlio  knows  to  speak ;]  Editor  of  the 
Morning  Courier,  and  JV.  Y.  Enquirer.  Mr.  Webb  has  shown  himself, 
on  more  than  one  occasion,  a  very  able  speaker. 

767.  French  leave  to  Price,  whose  lyre  is  mute  too  soon,]  Mr.  Joseph 
Price  was  lately  co-editor  with  Mr.  Locke  of  the  J\''ew  Era  (a  daily 
paper  published  in  New  York),  and  adorned  its  pages  with  occasional 
translations  from  De  Beranger,  in  my  opinion  among  the  very  best  of 
the  various  versions  I  have  seen  of  parts  of  that  poet. 

768.  ^nd  pleasantry  to  Locke,  that  dumb  the  moon ;]  See  note  to 
V.  419  of  the  first  Canto.  Mr.  Locke  is  the  same  gentleman  who  is 
mentioned  in  the  preceding  note. 

770.  Foul  all  with  slander,  even  to  thy  friends;]  Rubeta  (as  the 
citation  whicii  follows  will  show)  does  not  spare  even  his  own  party ;  a 
wonderful  thing  for  the  editor  of  a  political  journal !  But,  as  Iago  says 
of  himself, 

it  is  his  nature's  plague 

To  spy  into  abuses ;  and  oft  his  jealousy 
Shapes  faults  that  are  not *  : 

and  who,  on   the   other  hand,   would  not  be  ready  to  exclaim,  with 

Othello, 

This  fellow  's  of  exceeding  honesty, 

And  knows  all  qualities,  with  a  learned  spirit. 

Of  human  dealings  ? f 

However,  to  the  matter  illustrative  of  the  text: 

"  In  general  commUtee  of  Whig  young  men,  New  York,  Dec.  15,  R.  C.  Welmore, 
Pres.,  in  the  chair,  the  following  preamble  and  resolutions  were  unanimously  adopted  : 

*  Olhello,  A.  iii.  Sc.  3.  t  H- 


300  TIIK    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Be  tho  same  hypocrite  thou  still  hast  been, 
And  match  the  Devil  himself  in  pious  sin. 

Next  of  the  file,  PETRONIUS  (classic  name  !) 
Stands  proudly  swelling  with  his  father's  fame. 
Not  ov'ry  hack  may  boast,  whate'er  his  blood,         775 
A  statesman  for  a  sire,  wise  and  good  ; 


"  Whereas,  an  article  appeared  in  the  Com.  Adv.  and  N.  Y.  Spectator,  of  this  city, 
some  weeks  since,  signed  '  Sydney,'  in  which  the  political  evils  that  our  country  lias 
recently  sufiered  were  attributed  to  a  radical  defect  in  our  Constitutions  and  frame  of 
government,  and  a  preference  avowed  for  a  hereditary  rather  than  an  elective  chief 
magistrate,  —  HfC  ;  and  whereas  the  Editor  of  the  Com.  Adv.,  in  his  comments  upon  the 
article,  and  subsequently,  has  asserted  that  many  of  tlie  doctrines  and  views  of  '  Syd- 
ney '  are  countenanced  by  a  considerable  portion  of  the  Whig  party  —  Therefore, 

"  Resolved,  That  we,  the  Whig,  c^-c.  i^-c.  do  utterly  and  absolutely  disclaim,"  ^'C. 
^^•c.  "  That  we  yield  to  none  in  our  reverence  for,"  c^-c.  iSfC. ;  "  and  whoever  asserts 
or  insiiuialcs  the  contrary,  of  the  Whigs  of  New  York,  is  a  reckless  calumniator,"  Sj-c. 
<^c.  "  We  shall  feel  greatly  obliged  to  any  Editor  cherishing  sentiments  akin  to  those 
of  Sydney,'  \f  he  v>ill  propound  them  as  his  own,  and  not  as  those  of  the  Whig  party." 
^'C.  *     Advertisement  in  the  N.  V.  Am.,  Dec.  19,  1S37. 

773.  — clas.iic  —  ]  Because  of  his  qualities  of  style,  and  of  his  au- 
thority in  the  democracy  of  letters;  not  in  reference  to  the  mere  sobri- 
quet itself.  Call  him  Signor  Rodomonte,  or  Alons.  du  Coq-u-fdne,  or 
the  King  of  Cant,  it  would  still  be  the  classic  "  Signer  Rodomonle"  the 
classic  "  Mons.  du  Coq-a-l'ane,  the  classic  "King  of  Cant."  ** 

774.  — proudly  swelling  ivilh.  his  father'' s  fume.] 

"  Dinomaches  ego  sum.  —  SufHa. —  Sum  candidus.  —  Esto: 
Dum  ne  deterius  sapiat  pannucea  Baucis, 
Cum  bene  discincto  cantaverit  ocyma  vernae."  f 
776.  Jl  sl(tie.vnnn  —  wise  and  good;]     But  justice  we  believe.     Had 
this  eminent  man's  advice  been  taken,  tiie  States  had  now  been  saved  a 
bitter  source  of  contention,  which  already  shakes  our  system  somewhat 
alarmingly  :  I  mean  the  question  of  servile  emancipation,  the  which  he 
would  have  settled  in  the  only  way  that  is  either  feasible  or  just.         *  * 

*  Had  the  committee  but  known  the  royal  birth  of  their  temporary  fellow-townsman, 
they  would  have  |)ardoned  in  the  offspring  of  Dulness  and  Levity  a  misstatement, 
which  we  think  was  not  owing  to  an  habitual  disregard  of  truth,  or  to  a  carelessness  of 
assertion  arising  from  that  puerile  weakness  which  is  the  cause  of  the  constant  inad- 
vertencies and  misstatements  of  his  conteni[)orary  Petronius,  but  the  fault  of  his 
blood,  the  inheritance  transmitted  him  by  his  illustrious  parentage.         *  * 

t  Pers.  iv.  19,20,21.         '* 


CANTO  FOURTH.  301 

And   there,  where   Mammon's   sons  would  bliisli  to 

own 
Tlieir  humble  cradles  (were  they  only  known), 
Thou  'rt  right,  by  Heaven!  to  vaunt  thy  decent  birth. 
And  prove  a  coxcomb  through  thy  father's  worth.  780 
Critic  hebdomadal !  on  whose  broad  sheet 
Green  peas  and  pictures,  books  and  lobsters  meet ; 

Ver.  777.  —  there,  tohere  —  etc.]     In  New  York.         *  * 

780.  And  prove  a  coxcomb  through  thy  father^ s  worthJ] 

"veteres  avias  tibi  de  pulmone  revello."* 

"If  you  tralineate  from  your  father's  mind, 
What  are  you  else  but  of  a  bastard  kind  ? 
Do  as  your  great  progenitor  has  done, 
And  by  his  virtues  prove  yourself  his  son. 
^""0  father  can  infuse  or  ivit  or  grace."  f 

781.  Critic  hebdomadal !  —  ] 

EXTRA0RDI>'ARY    ATTRACTION    IN    ThE 

N.  Y.  AMERICAN. 

The  public  are  respectfully  informed,  that,  in  order  to  gratify  the  juve- 
nile class,  the  editor  has  introduced  on  the  second  page  of  his  paper  a 
parallelogram  varying  from  three  to  four  columns  in  diameter,  for  the 
purpose  of  performing  the  literary  elephant,  camel,  ponies,  and  monkeys. 
The  general  performance  of  the  animals  in  the  parallelogram  will  take 
place  every  Saturday  evening. 

Mr.  Petronius  will  enter  the  cages  at  certain  hours  throughout  the 
week,  and  remain  there  till  noon  on  Saturday.  Immediately  afterwards, 
the  animals  AviJl  be  fed  in  the  presence  of  the  spectators. 

Season  tickets  at  $10. 

Admission,  G  d.  Children,  whether  under  or  over  ten  years  of  age, 
admitted  at  all  times,  free  of  otlier  charge  than  a  trifling  contribution  of 
their  delightful  little  talents.  I 

*  Pers.  v.  92.  —  "quia  ait,"  (saj's  Casaubon,)  "  de  pulmone  revello,  malim  intel- 
ligere  per  veteres  avias  opinioriem  nobilitatis  el  arrogantiam  veiitosam,  cujus  secies  in 
pulmone."  Though  I  do  not  agree  with  him  in  this  confined  sense,  his  comment  an- 
swers the  purpose  of  illustrating  and  strengthening  the  text. 

t  Dryden's  Wife  of  Bath's  Tale,  very  slightly  altered.         ** 
t  A  parod}'  of  the  advertisement  of  the  "  Zoological  Institute,"  in  the  A'.  F.  Am. 
1836-37.  ** 


302  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Where  operatic  dicta  make  pretence,  — 

Crescendo  flash,  diminuendo  sense  ; 

And  second-rates,  turn'd  prima-donnas,  strain, —  785 

Da  capo,  sing  that  nonsense  o'er  again  ; 

Murders  and  Suicides  take  current  shape  ; 

Here  Brut^d  Outrages,  and  there  a  Rape  ; 

Tremendous  Conflagrations  blaze  anew ; 

And  land  and  water  Pirates  get  their  due ;  790 

O'CoNNEL,  Webster,  and  a  little  Song, 

In  one  great  omnibus,  roll  brisk  along  ! 

Ver.  78-2.  Green  peas  —  and  lobsters  — ]  "  Green  peas  and  fine  green  turtle 
were  on  the  dinner  tables  at  Barnum's  City  Hotel  on  Saturday  last.  At 
Page's  Hotel,  on  Saturday,  sheepshead,  lobsters,  and  green  peas,  were 
served  up."    JV.  Y.  Am.  May  13,  1835. 

These,  with  other  interesting  novelties,  are  the  proper  subjects  for 
RuBETA  and  Petronius.  Why  the  devil  will  they  meddle  with  any 
thing  more  serious  ? 

783.  Where  operatic  dicta  make  pretence,  —  ]  See  the  English  couplet 
cited  in  the  next  annotation.  *  * 

785.  And  second-rates,  twii'd  prima-donnas,  strain,  —  ] 
"  Miratur  voceni  angustam,  qua  deterius  nee 
Ille  sonat  quo  mordetur  gallina  marito."  * 

"  Fanti  the  feather  to  his  ear  conveys ; 
Then  his  nice  taste  directs  our  operas."  f 
787-790.    Murders,   etc.]      The    chief  business    of  this,    with  other 
newspapers.     Like  the  owl  in  the  Lutrin, 

"  Des  desastres  fameux  ce  messager  fidelle 
Salt  toujours  des  malheurs  la  premiere  nouvelle."t 
791.  O'CoifXEL,  Webster,  —  ]  An  association  of  names  that  is  meant 
merely  to  state  a  fact,  not  to  indicate  a  sentiment.  The  Author  has 
no  idea  of  mating  the  agitator  of  Ireland  with  the  consistent  friend  of 
rational  liberty  and  the  steady  conservator  of  his  country's  constitu- 
tion, a  very  ordinary  demagogue  with  the  first  political  name,  be- 

*  Juv.  iii.  yO.  \  Dunciad,\\.2idZ.  \Chant.Z»^'.  *» 


CANTO   FOURTH.  303 

Great  Arbiter  of  Elegance  !     I  mean, 

The  elegance  of  taste  and  playhouse-scene  ; 

yond  all  comparison,  in  the  umon. —  TJio  text,  to  a  liberal  man, 
■will  show  as  much :  but  this  poem  must  pass  under  the  fingers  of 
others. 

791.  —  a  Utile  song,  ] 

"  La  tons  les  vers  sont  bons  pourvu  qu'ils  soient  nouveaux."  * 
But,  as  a  common  instance  of  Pf.tronius's  really  good  taste  in  such 
matters,  we  insert  the  following  rhymes  and  preface  from  his  paper, 
being  scraps  which  we  found  in  the  usual  library  for  such  publica- 
tions. The  introduction  appears  to  have  reference  to  one  of  the  Amer- 
ican quarterly  reviews. 

"Art.  VI.  gives  to  the  various  publications  of  IVlrs.  Child,  a  native  writer  of  approved 
talent,  a  deserved  meed  of  applause.  The  following  poem,  now  for  the  first  time  seen 
by  us,  from  her  pen,  is  admirable.  The  subject  is  the  painting  by  Vanderlyn,  of 
Marius  seated  amid  the  ruins  of  Carthage. 

'  Pillars  are  fallen  at  thy  feet, 
Fanes  quiver  in  the  air, 
A  prostrate  city  is  thy  seat,  — 
And  thou  alone  art  there. 

'  No  change  comes  o'er  thy  noble  brow 
Though  ruin  is  around  thee  ; 
Thine  eye-heam  burns  as  proudly  now, 
As  when  the  laurel  crown'd  thee. 
*  * 

'  And  Genius  hath  electric  power, 
Which  earth  can  never  tame  ; 
hriglit  suns  may  scorch,  and  dark  clouds  loiver.  — 
Itsjiush  [flash  ?]  is  still  the  same. 

'  The  dreams  we  loved  in  early  life, 
May  me/i  like  mist  away ; 
High  thoughts  may  seem,  mid  passion's  strife, 
Like  Carthage  in  decay. 

'And  proud  hopes  in  the  human  heart 
May  be  to  ruin  hurled. 
Like  mouldering  monuments  of  art 
Heaped  on  a  sleeping  world.'  ''  Etc. 

What  a  pity  that  so  good  a  judge  of  verses  and  of  English  should  not 
versify,  as  he  makes  English,  himself !    Who  could  tell  the  result  ?    He 

*  Boil.  Sat.  x.      *  * 


304  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

At  whose  dread  fiat  magazinists  shake,  795 

And  boarding-schools  their  month's  selection  make, 

might  surpass  Macdonald  Clarke  *  —  or  even  the  pclhicid  Bulwf.r! 
Mrs.  Hemans  would  be  simple  and  classic  to  him,  and  L.  E.  L.  would 
prove  a  vulgar  follower  of  common  sense.  Prithee,  Petromus,  try  ! 
Though  thy  great  example  in  Philadelphia  f  shall  rival  thee;  in  taste 
thy  equal,  in  assumption  thy  superior:  — 

*  Apropos  of  Macdonald  Clarke.  While  the  editor  of  the  American  blushed  not 
to  praise  such  stuff  as  the  above,  lie  could  find  tiie  face,  we  will  not  say  heart,  to  write 
as  follows  of  this  poor  fellow,  (who  is  surely  not  half  so  mad  as  an}' of  these  poetasters,) 
not  merely  mortifying  that  pride,  of  which  Petronius  cannot  have  engrossed  so 
much,  but  some  portion,  doubtless,  has  fallen  to  IMacdonald's  share,  but  depriving 
the  unfortunate  man  of  his  bread.  Fie  upon  such  men  !  who  have  charity  daily  on 
their  lips. 

"Poems  by  Macdonald  Clarke.  1  vol.  New  York:  J.  V>\  Bell.  —  'Great 
genius  is  to  madness  close  allied,'  and  so  is  genius  sometimes  that  is  not  great,  in  rchicfi 
category  is  to  be  included  that  of  the  'mad  poet,'  familiarly  so  called,  whose  volume  is 
now  before  us. 

"  That  any  one  should  take  the  trouble  to  collect  and  priblisli  these  inanities,  we  would 
not,  but  for  the  evidence,  have  easily  believed  —  that  any  one  nill  take  the  trouble  to 
read  them,  we  do  not  believe  !  " 

What  necessity  was  there  for  this  wicked  notice  ?  \{  any  one  icould  take  the  trouble 
to  purchase  the  book,  why  not  let  him  ?  What  harm  could  it  do  the  well-fed  Petkoni- 
us  that  the  poor  and  unoffending  being,  whom  he  has  so  gratuitously  chosen  to  insult, 
should  eat  a  small  portion  of  that  food,  which  the  God,  who  made  them  both,  gave 
them,  I  presume,  equal  capacity  for  relishing?  Would  it  have  diminished  the  heap 
upon  his  own  platter  ? 

Hie  error  tamen,  et  levis  hec  insania,  quanias 

Virtutes  liabeat,  sic  collige  :  vatis  avarus 

Non  tcmere  est  animus  ;   versus  amat,  hoc  studet  unum  ; 

Detrimenta,  fugas  servorum,  incendia  ridet; 

Non  fraudem  socio,  puerove  incogitat  ullam 

Pupillo  ;  vivil  siliquis  et  pane  secundo  ;  Etc.  {a) 
There  is  a  translation  somewhere  by  one  Francis,  which  the  American  may  consult. 
But  come,  let  us  ackno«  ledge  that  an  editor  has  no  need  of  what  he  is  plainly  seen  to 
want,  humane  feelings  ;  let  us  further  allow  him  the  miserable  pleasure  of  pulling  the 
win"s  and  logs  from  harmless  flies;  we  shall  see,  however,  that  if  he  wants  a  heart,  he 
has  discrimination  (of  persons)  to  a  prodigious  degree,  and  that  if  little  flies  are  muti- 
lated for  amusement,  the  big  ones  buzz  delightfully  to  his  discerning  ears.  See,  in  the 
note  to  V.  934,  the  poem  of  Mrs-  Fleet's;  then  tell  me,  did  Macdonald  Clarke 
ever  write  more  wretched  stuff  than  that  ?  There  is  no  such  fool  as  dare  to  say  he  did. 
t  The  genius  of  the  N.  Y.  American  is  kept  in  awe  by  that  of  the  National  Gazette, 
or  at  least  was,  when  Mr.  VValsh  had  the  conduct  of  the  latter  paper.        *  * 

(a)  IIoRAT.  EpisC.  Lib.  ii.  1.  v.  118,  &.c. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  305 


When  lists  go  down  to  Long  and  Peabody,  — 
Please  send  Guy  Rivers,  or  The  Yemassee ; 


"  [^From  the  National  Gazette.']  * 

"The   PENNSYLVAifIA, 

"  Tlie  largest  vessel  in  the  world,  now  lying  at  tlie  Navy  Yard,  Philadelphia. 

"  Thou  shalt  go  forth  an  Ocean  King, 

An  Eagle  with  distended  wing, 

Tlie  Monarch  of  a  wat'ry  realm, 

Dominion  sealed  on  thy  helm. 

Thy  kindred  fellows,  there  shall  be, 

The  monsters  of  the  surging  sea. 

Leviathans  shall  check  their  course 

To  marvel  at  a  mightier  force. 

The  dolphin  and  enamelled  snake, 

Shall  by  thy  side  their  pastime  take, 

While  mermaids  from  their  amber  plains j 

Will  lure  thee  on,  with  choral  strains. 
#  #  # 

That  iron  bulwark  seems  to  mock 

The  yesty  billows'  angriest  shock  ; 

Undaunted,  midst  the  swirling  food, 

As  sporting  in  its  raging  mood. 

But  what  is  this,  thy  mimic  inight, 

To  Him,  th'  o'erichelming.  Infinite  ; 

Who  that  far  desert-realm   has  spanned, 

And  'poured  it  from  his  hollow  hand  ?  ' 

A  stroke  from  whose  broad  arm  would  sweep 

Thy  fabric  'neath  the  yawning  deep ; 

Nor  leave  one  plank  to  mark  the  wave, 

That  lashed  o'er  thy  gigantic  grave. 
Trenton,  1835.  H.  L.  B" 

Let  thine  own  correspondents,  Petronius,  but  imitate  this  sublime  pro- 
fanity, and  ask  the  engine  on  the  Erie  railroad  the  sensible  question, 
lohat  its  might  is  to  the  Deity,  and  thy  columns  will  be  perfect.  Made, 
puer  adultc !     Made  nova  virtute. 

793.  — Arbiter  of  elegance! — ]      Petronius's  true    title:  "arbiter 
elegantiarum."  *  * 

794.  The  elegance  of  taste  —  ]     See  note  to  v.  808,  below.         *  * 

795.  —  magazinists  —  ]     So.  the  editors  of  the  Amer.  Monthly  Mag,, 
of  the  Knickerbocker  do.,  of  the  Southern  Lit.  Messenger,  et  id  genus 


*  N.  V.  A7nerican,  of  Oct.  29th,  1833. 

39 


306  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

A  Winter  in  the  West ;  all  those,  indeed, 

P ETRONius  declares  my  girls  may  read  :  soo 


Ver.  796.  .^nd  boarding-schools  their  monUi's  selection  make,] 
Te  sine,  nil  stuUis  pulchrum:  omnes  ora  puellcB 
In  te,  oculosque  fcrunt  versct :  tua  maxima  virtus 
Omnibus  auxilio  est  :  tua  libant  carmina  *  passim 
Assiduoi,  primis  et  te  venerantur  ab  annis.  f 
There  you  are,  sir,  on  the  same  bench  with  Virgil. 

797.  Long  and  Pkauodt,  — ]  Fashionable  booksellers  in  New  York, 
at  the  time  these  lines  were  written. 

799.  —  all  those,  indeed —  Petronzus  declares  my  girls  may  read :  ]  As 
the  Man  of  Feeling,  the  Mn7i  of  the  World,  Julia  de  Roubigne,  Rod- 
erick Random,  Amelia,  Falkland,  Pelham,  and  the  like.     Example  : 

"  The  Miscellaneous  Works  of  Henry  Mackensie,  complete  in  one  vol- 
ume. N.  Y.  :  Harper  Jf  Brothers.  —  The  Wan  of  Feeling,  the  Man  of  ihe  World, 
Julia  de  Roubign('',  and  various  papers  published  in  Ihe  periodicals  of  the  day,  are  here 
collected  in  one  handsome  volume.  The  inundation  of  modern  books  has  probably 
caused  young  readers  to  be  ignorant,  that  Mackensie  is  one  of  the  purest  writers  and 
most  touching  narrators  in  our  language,  and  it  may  therefore  be  doing  a  service  to  such 
readers,  thus  to  bear  07ir  testimony  [  !  !  ]  to  his  merits."  [And,  accordingly,  the  Har- 
pers advertised  Mackensie  as  a  holiday  present.] 

Now,  to  pass  the  mere  merit  of  Mackensie  as  a  writer, —  of 
■which,    by  the  by,  there    is,   notwithstanding    Sir  Walter  Scott,  f 


*  Sc.  those  which  he  publishes. 

t  ViD^  Poet.  iii.  370,  with  a  very  trilling  alteration.  ** 

X  Sir  Walter  entitled  him  the  Scottish  Addison.  (See  the  last  page  of  Waverley. ) 
But,  in  the  same  novel,  Crabbe  is  termed  ihe  English  Juvenal.  Crabbe,  it  is  true, 
though  not  exactly  either  Nature's  sternest  painter ,  or  the  best,  (a)  held  a  fine  pencil  for 
some  of  the  gloomier  traits  of  humanity.  In  his  manner  of  description  he  not  un- 
frequently  resembles  Dryden,  whom,  I  should  judge  by  his  ofien-rccurring  Alexan- 
drines, he  justly  admired  and  chose  to  study,  and  in  his  versification  he  attains,  at  dis- 
tant intervals,  to  the  richness  and  variety  of  Pope  ;  but,  like  Dryden,  the  author  of  the 


(a)  The  encomium  of  BvnoN  ;  only  faulty,  because  supevlntive  :  — 

'T  is  true,  that  nil  who  rhyme,  nsiy,  all  who  write, 

Shrink  from  that  fatal  word  to  genius  —  Trite  ; 

Yet  Truth  soineticnes  will  lend  her  noblest  fires, 

And  decorate  the  verse  herself  insjiircs  : 

This  fact  in  Virtue's  name  let  Chabbe  attest, 

Though  Ifature''s  sternest  painter,  yet  the  best. 
En^.  Bards,  fyc. 
Had  the  poet  said,  Nature's  stern  painter,  and  amons  her  best,  he  had  told  the  simple 
truth.  *  * 


CANTO   FOURTH.  307 

For  these  are  shocking  times,  dear  Mr.  Long, 
And  naughty  books  make  every  thing  go  ivrong. 


(who,  it  must  be  remembered,  was  a  personal  friend  of  Mackensie's, 
and  was  besides,  as  Mr.  Lockhart  tcstities,  very  apt  to  overrate  the 

Borougli  seems  to  have  tlioiiglit  that  his  good  verses  would  atone  for  the  bad  (/)),  while 
he  is  certainly  remarkable  tor  not  a  little  of  that  platitude  which  is  the  besetting  sin  of 
William  Wordsworth  :  and  where  shall  we  find  in  him  the  magnificence,  the  cn- 
erg}',  the  sparkling  vivacity,  tlie  pointed  irony,  the  bitter  invective,  and,  above  all,  the 
conciseness  of  expression,  that  condensation  of  mucli  matter  into  a  small  compass,  and 
that  felicity  of  epithet  by  which,  at  a  single  stroke  of  the  pencil  as  it  were,  entire  pic- 
tures stand  in  tlie  distinctness  of  reality,  and  the  glow  of  living  nature,  on  the  eternal 
canvass,  —  where,  I  say,  shall  these,  the  finished  traits  of  Juvenal,  be  found  upon 
the  homely  pages  of  George  Crabbe  ?  (c)  And  as  to  Mackensie,  certainly  in  that 
book  by  whose  false  title  he  is  as  often  known  as  by  his  own  honest  name,  "  The  Man 
of  Feeling"  appears  to  have  made  the  author  of  the  Sentimental  Journey  his  vicious 
model  rather  too  much  to  be  paralleled  with  Joseph  Addison  ;  while  the  moral  sen- 
tences, which  alone  give  relish  to  the  Man  of  the  World,  had  their  model  more  in  the 
Rasselas  of  Dr.  Johnson,  than  in  the  sheets  of  the  Spectator. 

It  is  thus  that  men  inconsiderately  assign  to  noted  characters,  whether  in  letters  or 
politics,  titles  which  suppose  the  existence  of  qualities  perhaps  totally  averse  from  their 
nature.  A  single  fancied  trait  (as,  for  instance,  the  severity  of  the  subjects,  rather 
than  of  the  muse,  of  Crabbe,)  is  sufficient  to  make  the  rest  of  the  character  pass  cur- 
rent for  the  parallel  we  are  pleased  to  form  of  it ;  and,  as  in  morals  the  fine  turn  of  a 
period,  or  a  sparkling  sentence,  is  often  regarded  more  than  exactness  and  truth,  so 

(i)  The  acute  remark  of  Dr.  Johnson  upon  Dryden's  irregular  muse.  —  The  observation 
above  applies  of  course  only  to  Crabbe's  later  productions  (the  Borough  and  the  Tales)  ; 
the  Village  will  range  on  the  same  shi;lf  with  Goldsmith's  Deserted  Village  and  Mr. 
Campbell's  Pleasures  of  Hope.  It  is  truly,  what  Johnson  declared  it  to  be,  "  varied,  ele- 
gant, and  original ;  "  nor  will  you  easily  find  a  collection  of  poems  more  elegant  throughout 
than  the  volume  where  it  occurs. 

(c)  There  is  no  real  parallel  in  English,  and  none  whatever  in  French  satire,  for  Juvenal. 
BoiLEAC  borrowed  from  him,  to  be  unlike  him,  and  Dryden  but  resembles  him  in  parts. 
Certainly  neither  Gifford,  nor,  still  better,  Byron,  strong  as  is  the  Ibrnier,  and  strong,  va- 
ried, elegant,  and  lively  the  latter,  can  lay  any  claim  to  such  a  distinction,  though  it  has 
been  generously  heaped  upon  them  both.  (1)  Pope,  who  comes  the  nearest  in  resemblance 
to  a  classic  author  of  all  the  poets  of  Great  Britain,  especially  in  that  evidence  of  a  true 
artist,  the  felicity  and  force  of  expression,  and  the  skill  to  select  the  proper  points  for  de- 
scription, and  not  (like  Crabbe)  to  carry  us  through  the  entire  country  of  detail,  Pope 
combines  with  much  of  the  grace  and  pleasantry  of  Horace  no  small  portion  of  the  keen- 
ness and  vigor  of  Juvenal,  while  he  excels  them  both  in  the  harmony  of  his  muse,  and 
in  the  melody  of  distinct  verses ;  yet  Pope  is  not  a  Juvenal  any  more  than  Dryden. 

(1)  And  yet  am  I  not  certain  that  English  Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers  does  not  deserve 
to  be  laid  side  by  side  with  Juvenal,  however  it  has  no  such  similitude  of  features  as  enti- 
tles it  to  be  called  a  likeness.  Amazing  performance  for  so  young  a  man  !  whether  we 
regard  the  brilliancy  of  its  satire,  or  the  excellent  judgment  displayed  in  its  criticism. 


308  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

The  last  you  sent  I  really  must  return ; 
It  talks  too  like  a  man  for  my  concern. 


merits  of  other  writers,)  a  very  erroneous  opinion  current,  —  though 
we  cannot  blame  Petronius,  who  has  never  an  opinion  of  his  own, 
for  sailing  with  the  stream,  like  other  straws,  whisps,  orange-peel, 
and  such  like  things,  —  passing  this,  what  are  we  to  think  of  his  ad- 
vice as  a  moral  teacher,  who  recommends  Julia  de  Roubign^,  and  the 
Man  of  the  World,  ay,  or  tlie  J\lan  of  Feeling,  to  young  readers  ?  books 
which,  oven  excluding  all  their  scenes  of  common  vice  and  uncommon 
debauchery,  are  dangerous  on  the  score  of  false  sentiment.  It  is 
shooting  a  fly  with  a  cannon,  we  confess,  to  blow  up  by  argument  or 
evidence  wliat  Avere  done  as  well  with  a  puff'  of  laughter ;  only  Ave 
recollect  that  there  were  such  people  as  believed  in  Matthias;  and 
therefore  we  add  what  Petrokics  said  of  Roderick  Randovi. 

"RoDKRicK  Random,  1  vol.,  bj'  T.  W.  Sniollelt.  IN.  Y. :  Harper  Sf  Brothers.  — 
In  lliis  fastidious  age,  the  genuine  humor  of  Smollett,  and  his  life-like  delineations  of 
characters  —  not  always  refined  —  as  lohat  society  on  earth  consists  exclusively  or  main- 
ly of  such  1  —  run  some  risk  of  not  being  enjoyed,  as  they  should  be. 

"Our  recollections,  however,  of  Roderick  Random  and  honest  Strap,  are  so  agree- 
able, that  we  cannot,  in  gratitude,  do  less  than  say  to  others,  that  Roderick  Random  is 
capitally  amusing."     N.  Y.  Amer.  Nov.  26th,  1836. 

This  is  the  man  who  condemned  Frascati  (see  the  next  note).  Could 
Frascaii  display  more  immoral  scenes,  or  more  likely  to  corrupt.''  We 
believe  it  is  Roderick  Random  who  plays  Dr.  Home  with  himself  and 
a  drab  in  a  garret.  The  best  of  it  is,  that  the  same  very  knoAving  critic 
found  fault  Avith  Humphrey  Clinker  for  indelicacy !  But  see  the  note 
which  follows. 

801-804.  ^^  For  these  are  shocking  tiines,  —  .,%id  iiaughly  books,"  etc.] 
Tlius  speaks  Petronius,  in  the  spring  of  1835  we  think,  (avc  have  lost 
the  date :  ) 

"  Frascati,  OR  Scenes  IN  Paris.  2  vols.  Philad.  :  E.  Jj.  Carey,  and  A.  Hart. 
This  seems  to  us  a  rechauffe  [  rechauffe]  of  the  various  immoralities  of  the  great 
metropolis  —  fit  only  to  bo  perused  by  those  whose  tastes  would  lead  them  to  par- 
take in  what  is  here  [sc.  in  the  IN.  Y.  American  ]  described.'' 


here  a  fine-sounding  jihrasc  fills  the  ear  too  agreeably  for  the  understanding  to  analyze 
the  composition  of  the  music.  How  much  this  exaggeration,  in  the  case  of  Sir  Wal- 
ter Scott,  was  owing  to  that  feature  in  his  character  recorded  by  Mr.  I>ockhart, 
and  how  much  to  the  wish  of  securing  the  favor  of  two  very  popular  writers  for  an  un- 
known production,  I  leave  the  reader  to  imagine.  That  great  and  excellent  man,  the 
greatest  perhaps  of  the  present  age,  and  surely  one  of  the  best,  had  enough  of  amiability 
for  the  former  motive,  and  was  sufficiently  human  for  the  latter. 


CANTO  FOURTH.  309 

Ah,  dear  Petronius, —   Yet  no,  —  not  dear;         805 
For  I  thj  literary  Tliorax  fear, 


Delicins  hominis .'  Let  the  Reader  compare  this  pithy  condemnation 
with  the  approved  in  tlie  preceding  note.  —  By  the  by,  it  had  so  hap- 
pened that  Mr.  Power,  the  comedian,  liad  published,  the  very  week  be- 
fore, his  vindication  of  his  riglit  to  be  called  an  Irishman,  which  Petro- 
nius republished ;  and  there  this  word  rechauffe  occurred  properly 
applied  ;  unfortunately  for  our  critic,  who  must  needs  introduce  it  here, 
thougli  how  it  were  possible  to  make  a  rechavffi  of  the  "immoralities," 
whatsoever  one  migiit  do  with  a  former  description  of  the  "  immorali- 
ties," it  would  be  hard  to  say. 

Again,  (to  take  our  illustrations  from  the  present  day,)  thus  says  the 
N.  Y.  American  of  March  10th,  1838: 

"The  Works  of  Lady  Blessington.  Complete.  2  volumes  in  one.  Philadel- 
phia :  E.  L.  Careij,  and  A.  Hart.  —  A  new  edition  of  the  several  works  of  this  au- 
thoress, which,  though  published  separately,  are  now  for  the  first  time  presented  to 
the  public  in  one  book.  The  letter-press  and  material  [  ?  ]  of  this  work  is  [are] 
good,  and  it  contains  a  very  pretty  engraving  of  a  very  fine  woman.  We  wish  we 
could  commend  the  purity  of  its  morals,  as  well  as  the  whiteness  of  the  paper ;  but 
depravity  is  sometimes  found  within  a  broad  margin.  We  do  not  question  Lady 
Blessington's  right  to  describe  tilings  as  she  [so  printed]  finds  them  ;  but  may 
Heaven  preserve  us  in  our  unsophisticated  ignorance  of  such  ways  and  doings." 

As  if  to  bid  Shame  defiance,  the  very  next  column,  on  the  same  page, 
presents,  side  by  side  with  this  conscientious  judgment,  the  following 
charming  contrast  : 

'•  The  History  of  Amelia.  By  HExNry  Fielding,  Esq.  with  illustrations  by 
George  Cruikshank.  New  York  :  Harper  and  Brothers.  —  Here  is  a  cornfort  to  a 
regular  novel  reader,  one  who  has  undertaken  Clarissa  Harlow  and  accomplished 
Sir  Charles  Grandison,  who  has  gone  into  the  country  for  a  week  with  the  History  of 
Joseph  Andrews  and  Pamela,  and  returned  in  three  days  for  want  of  something  to 
read.  Here  are  five  hundred  and  twenty-four  closely  printed  pages,  in  a  volume  of 
Doct.  Johnson's  favorite  size  —  om  you  caii  take  in  your  hand  to  the  f  reside.  The 
illustrations  are  very  amusing,  and  give  the  costumes  of  the  day  with  accuracy.  We 
cannot  exactly  call  this  a  new  book,  it  having  been  written  about  eighty-eight  years 
ago." 

This  is  negative  commendation  and  recommendation,  and  of  a  high 
degree.  Did  Petronius  read  Amelia  "  eighty-eight  years  ago,"  that 
he  forgot  the  scenes  it  describes,  and  the  nature  of  its  dialogue  ?  or,  as 
with  his  fellow-moralist  Rubeta,  is  there  such  a  difference  between  a 
reputation  which  is  in  the  reach  of  envy,  and  one  that  is  established  too 
long  and  set  too  high  for  curs  to  snarl  at.^  that  is,  between  a  living  au- 
thor and  a  dead  ?  "  We  do  not  question  Henry  Fielding^s  right  to  de- 


310  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

And,  crouching  in  tlu;  dust,  salute  thee  Great, 
Whose  type-stick  measures  out  both  taste  and  fate,  — 


scribe  things  as  he  found  them ;  but  may  Heaven  preserve  us  in  our 
unsophisticated  ignorance  of  such  ways  and  doings."     Amen! 

The  Reader  will  open  his  eyes,  presently,  at  the  display  we  shall 
make  of  this  very  nice  newsman's  real  purity. 

soG.  —  Thorax  —  ]  Thorax  was  the  name  of  a  mountain  near  the 
city  of  Magnrsia,  whereon  Daphitas  was  crucified  for  paying  his 
metrical   compliments    to    certain    Kings.      Kurai  V  h  -rihiu,  -r^oi  i'^u 

xaXi>VjU.'ivtfi  0uoaKi,  n  ToXi;  [  Mayv>i»-/e  ],  lip'  ai  ara,v^u6riiiiii  <pavi  ^a(pira,v  tok 
y^aftftccriKov,  Xouio^nt/aiTO.    tovs  jiaffiXias  oix  ffTi^cu  ' 

TLo^<pv^toi    fjiuXia-xti,    aTofipi)ir,ft.arct   yd^ns 
Au(rift,a;^oti,    Auiuv   a^^ni   xai   'P^vyini. 

KaJ   Xoyiov  S*  luTiinTv   uutu   xlytraiy  <pvXoirri(r6a,i  Tov  Qui^aaa.      oTRAB.   Oeogr. 

xiv.  Cap.  i.  Sect.  39.     Lips.  1806. 

808.  —  taste  —  ]  Though  this,  as  is  evident  from  the  construction, 
refers  to  his  dicta  as  a  reviewer  (God  save  us!),  and  is  amply  illustrated 
further  on  in  the  Canto,  we  cannot  refrain  from  annexing  a  specimen  of 
what  is  exactly  to  Petronius's  taste ;  and  we  hope  it  will  be  thought 
worthy  to  rank  with  those  "  inspired "  strains  of  Flaccus  and  Mm 
Waters,  with  which  our  Author  has  so  cunningly  adorned  his  pages: — 

"  [^From  tlic  Green  Thistle,  No.  2.] 
"Mr.  Pickwick  — '  As  I  vas  a  comiii'  down  street  this  momin',  a  thinkin'  of  my 
mother-in-law,  and  the  old  'un,  and  ihe  shepherd,  a  big  loafer  vent  to  shoot  a  little  hin- 
nocent  dog,  right  afore  my  face  !  So  I  goes  up  to  him,  '  JMr.  Snook,'  says  I.  '  My 
name  ain't  Snook,'  says  he.  '  Veil,'  said  1,  '  my  name  ain't  Valker,  and  if  so  be,  Mr. 
Varmint,  that  you  harms  that  ere  dog,  vy,'  etc.  '  Vcn  I  comes  home,  I  sets  down  and 
writes  this  ere  little  haffecling  ditty.'    Etc. 

"  AN    APPEAL  TO  THE  DOG  KILER. 

"  Loafer,  spare  that  dog! 

Touch  not  a  hair  or  limb  ! 
In  youth  he  fought  for  me. 

And  now  I  'II  fight  for  him. 
What  injur}-  doth  he. 

That  in  his  fated  head, 
The  Mayor's  stern  decree 

Must  lodge  a  junk  of  lead. 
*  * 

When  but  an  idle  boy 

Often  with  him  I  roved  ; 
In  all  their  gushing  joy. 

Him,  too,  my  sisters  loved  ;  * 


CANTO   FOURTH.  311 

Fate  of  small  authors,  who  adore  thy  shrine, 
And  humbly  beg  of  thee  for  leave  to  dine.  810 

(They,  who  would  scorn  a  Holland's  noble  aid. 
May  lick  thy  vulgar  hand  for  praise,  and  bread  ! 
Spirits  that  would  despise  e'en  Southey's  bays, 
But  bend  the  neck  to  greet  a  blockhead's  praise  ; 


And  liim  my  brotlicrs  dear, 

The  fond  caress  would  give. 
Loafer  !  who  sent  thee  here  ? 

Go  !  let  that  old  dog  live  !  " 

N.  Y.  American,  Sept.  7th,  1837. 

As  this  is  not  the  communication  of  one  of  his  subscribers,  but  an  ex- 
tracf,  we  may  reasonably  consider  it,  like  the  one  on  p.  305,  peculiarly 
to  the  Editor's  taste ;  and,  certainly,  it  does  it  credit.         *  * 

811.  — Holland  —  ]  The  venerable  and  amiable  nobleman,  himself 
a  man  of  letters,  who  now  graces  this  title,  was,  it  will  be  remembered, 
somewhat  gratuitously  rated  by  Lord  Byron  for  his  patronage  of  au- 
thors. 

I  desire  not  to  be  misunderstood.      While  I  think  that  a   man   of 
rank   and  fortune   cannot  more    nobly   use   his    wealth    and   influence 
than  in  the  encouragement,  and  protection  if  need  be,  of  literary  merit, 
yet  do  I  hold  that  the  object  of  this  patronage  is  always  degraded: 
Dignus  Aricinos  qui  mendicaret  ad  axes, 
Blandaque  devcxse  jactaret  basia  rhedse.* 

The  client  is  morally  a  slave  to  his  patron  ;  and  slavery  recognises  no 
virtue  but  entire  submissiveness.  But  as,  at  the  present  day,  you  meet 
in  certain  writers  most  indignant  flourishes  at  the  mental  prostitution  of  a 
past  era  in  literature,  it  seems  to  me  not  very  consistent,  that  these  cham- 
pions of  independence  sliould  condescend  to  live  at  the  will  of  a  news- 
paper, and  submit  their  taste  and  judgment  to  its  beg'garly  decision. 
Perhaps  they  cannot  help  it.   Amen !  then  1  will  help  it  for  them, 

113.  —  e'en  South Fr''s bays,]  The  laureateship  has  long  been  consid- 
ered, even  in  England,  as  somewhat  derogatory  to  that  character  for 
independence,  which  a  man  of  spirit  wishes  to  maintain  in  the  world 
A  poet-laureate  always  seems  to  be  a  poet  in  livery  ;  though  he  is  so,  in 
fact,  but  on  stated  occasions. 


*  Juv.  iv.  117.        ** 


312  THE   VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

Warm'd  by  the  smiles,  and  frozen  by  the  sneers,    8i5 
Of  stupid,  fulsome,  menial,  gazetteers.) 
All  hail,  dread  King  of  Shreds  and  Patches  !  deign 
To  let  my  ivy  clasp  thy  wall  of  brain. 
So  shall  thy  name,  like  Pyrrhus'  toe,  unhurt, 
Survive  when  all  the  rest  of  thee  is  dirt.  82o 

Swart  Memnon   spoke,  when   Egypt's  blood-red 
sun 
Touch'd  his  cold  lips ;  and  yet  they  were  but  stone : 
So  thou,  inspir'd  by  gold's  omnific  ray. 
Though  Heav'n  hath  cast  thy  brain  in  refuse  clay, 

Ver.  817.  —  deign  —  To  lei  my  ivy  clasp  thy  ivall  of  hrain :  ] 

hanc  sine  tempora  circum 

Inter  victrices  hedevam  tibi  serpere  lauros. 

ViRG.  Ed.  viii.  12. 

819,  820.  —  like  PrssHus^  toe,  unhurt  —  Survive  —  ]  Quorumdam 
corpori  partes  iiascuntur  ad  aliqua  mirabiles ;  sicut  Pyrrho  regi  pollex 
in  dextro  pede,  cujus  tactu  lienosis  medebatur.  Hunc  cremari  cum 
reliquo  corpore  non  potuisse  tradunt,  conditumquc  loculo  in  templo. 

Plin.  Hist-  .mt.  vii.  2.         *  * 

821,822.  Sioart  Memnon  spoke,  ivhen  EorrTS  blood-red  sun — Ihuch^d 
his  cold  lips ;  and  yel  they  were  but  stone  :  ]  —  quern  vocant  basalten, 
ferrei  coloris  atque  duritiaa.  ***Non  absimilis  illi  narratur  in  Thebis 
delubro  Serapis,  ut  putant,  Memnonis  statua  dicatus :  *  *  *.  Plin.  Hist. 
JVat.  xxxvi.  11.  — Memnonis  saxea  effigies,  ubi  radiis  solis  icta  est, 
vocalem  sonum  reddens.     Taciti  Annal.  ii.  01.  *  * 

621.  —  blood-red  sun  —  ]  It  was  at  his  rising,  as  is  well  known,  that 
the  Sun  is  said  to  have  produced  this  effect  on  Memnon.  Philostratus 
has  described  the  phenomenon  very  fancifully : AoxeTya^  o  'Hxie;,  oUn) 

TrXfixTgev  xarei  ra  ffrifio,  ifi-rivrur  t^  Mifivcom,  iKxaXi7(r^ai  (fuvi:)!  ixtThv,  xat, 
XaXovvTt  iro((i'Krfji,aTi,  -ra^afivSuffSai  Tjjv  'H^sjav  [  i.  e.  Auroram,  Memiionis 
matrem.]     lco7i.  lib.  i.  7.    ed.  Olearii.  fol.  Lips.  1709.  p.  774. 


CANTO  FOURTH.  313 

Turn'st   the  rude   hand,  that  should  have  grasp'd  a 
spade,  825 

To  libel  sense,  and  spoil  a  dirty  trade. 
Why  not?  thy  correspondents  bid  thee  scrawl. 
At  it,  a  God's  name  !  and  amuse  them  all. 
'T  is  mutual  favor  ;  thou  and  they  are  quits  : 
Thou  lov'st  their  resin  ;  they,  obliging  wits,  830 

To  see  their  nasty  drivel  set  in  print, 
Coax  thy  dull  sprite,  and  fool  thee  to  their  bent. 


Ver.  830.  —  resin  —  ]     Incense.         *  * 

827  -  832.  Tfhy  not  ?  thy  correspondents,  etc.  —  they,  obliging  wits,  — 
To  see  their  nasty  drivel,  etc.]  Refers  to  the  regular  flattery  with 
which  his  correspondents  introduce  an  article  in  order  to  insure  its  in- 
sertion. A  modest  man  would  in  every  case  omit  such  parts,  as  it 
would  be  taking  no  liberty  with  the  composition,  but  what,  from  their 
personal  nature,  it  would  be  his  perfect  right  to  do  :  but  there  be  men 
content  to  obtain,  from  the  servility  of  others,  distinctions  which  they 
cannot  earn  for  themselves.  We  have  specimens,  of  all  dates,  and  of 
every  variety.     A  few  shall  suffice  us. 

In  the  N.  Y.  Am.  for  July  20th,  1837,  some  nincompoop,  who  signs 
himself  Old  Suffolk,  thus  prefaces,  in  an  address  to  the  editor,  certain 
talk  about  the  inelegance  of  a  Report  by  the  Visitors  of  the  Military 
Academy  at  West  Point : 

"Knowing  your  love  o/ correct  composition,  [!]  your  classical  and  grammatical 
taste,  [!!]  and  your  apparent  aversion  to  loose  loriting,  [!!!]  I  am  a  little  surprised 
that  you  did  not  scold  the  Board  [!!!!]  for  permitting  their  Report  to  go  forth  to  the 
world  in  the  dress  in  which  it  appears." 

Praise  misplaced  is  often  the  bitterest  irony.  A  proposition  which  we 
never  saw  so  forcibly  exemplified  as  in  the  compliments  of  Old  Suffolk. 

The  next  example  is  of  March  24th,  1838,  induced  by  which,  our  mod- 
est editor  bestowed  a  column  and  a  half  of  his  paper  upon  the  wire- 
drawn proposition  of  a  most  absurd  scheme,  such  as  could  only  originate 
in  the  brain  of  a  pedant,  and  retired  pedagogue,  totally  ignorant  of  the 
ways  of  men.     Petronius  says: 

"  As  auxiliary  to  our  plan  of  giving  to  Saturday's  paper  a  literary  character,  we 
call  attention  to  the  following  communication  of  '  .\  School  Master,'  on  a  subject 

40 


314  THE  VISION  OF  RUBpyrA. 

Hence,  like  thy  Flaccus,  thou  wilt  ne'er  believe, 
That  even  thy  friends  are  laughing  in  their  sleeve. 


which  ought  to  excite  the  interest  and  secure  the  co-operation  of  every  patriot  and 
every  parent." 

And  the  "  Schoolmaster  "  opens  : 

"  Sir  —  The  venj  lively  interest  which  you  take  in  the  sound  education  of  the  rising 
generation  in  this  promising  country,  your  own  experience  [where  obtained  ?],  and 
the  love  rchich  (I  know)  you  still  retain  for  Classical  Literature,  encourage  me  to 
hope  for  your  countenance,  Sfc." 

Quid  apertius  ?  et  tamen  illi 
Surgebant  cristae  !  Nihil  est  quod  credere  de  se 

Non  possit,  cum  laudatur, * 

Not  one  of  the  least  amusing  of  our  specimens  is  that  furnished  in  the 
paper  for  May  12th,  by  one  "  M.,"  who  does  not  scruple  to  dub  his  dupe . 
the  Father  of  the  Fine  Arts.     Hear  him : 

"Mr.  Editor — Amid  the  clashings  [clashing]  of  Politics  and  Banks,  you  must 
not  forget  Ouit  the  Fine  Arts  of  our  city  look  to  the  columns  of  your  paper  with 
somewhat  of  a  filial  claim.     If  they  cry  out,  you  are  bound  to  hear  them." 

Finally  "  Civis,"  alias  "  John  Waters,"  alias  "  Black  Fish,"  alias 
perhaps  "Flaccus,"  (for  two  such  geniuses  surely  cannot  exist  atone 
epoch ;  Nature  would  lack  matter  and  strength  for  the  double  genera- 
tion,) "  Black  Fish  "  is  famous  for  this  sort  of  pour  boire  or  buona  viano. 
He  says  soft  things  to  the  great  initials,  and  their  owner,  in  return,  ad- 
mits —  soft  things.     See  the  note  to  verse  900. 

833.  —  thy  Flaccus,  —  ]  The  folloAving  is  a  sample  of  that  young 
gentleman's  best  rhyme  and  best  reason  : 

#        #         #         * 

"  My  page  will  prove  tnore  pleasaitt  than  profound, 

1  love  to  tickle,  rather  than  to  wound  ; 

JVIien  fools  are  sunk  in  dullness'  slumber  low, 

A  feather  wakes  as  quickly  as  a  blow. 

In  satire's  shaft,  my  pen  will  not  assume 

The  part  of  barb,  but  only  that  of  plume. 
No.  I.  W." 

Quid  dignum  tanto  feret  hie  promissor  liiatu  ? 

Parturiunt  monies:  nascetur  ridiculus  mus, f 
whose  whiskers  will  be  shown  in  a  subsequent  note.    However,  "  We 
are  glad  to  see  this  marked  No.  I,  and  shall  await "  (says  our  friend  Pe- 
TRONius,  with  his  usual  good  English  and  correct  grammar),  "  with  ea- 

«  Juv.iv.  69-71.        **  \  Hon.  de  Arte  Poel.  138,  169.        ** 


CANTO  FOURTH.  315 

But  toilest  on,  despite  thy  dwarfish  strength,  835 

In  dissertations  sixteen  lines  in  length, 
Whence  sense  and  judgment  wander  many  a  mile, 
Like  grammar  and  connexion  from  thy  style. 


gerness  that  ivhat  is  so  cleverly  begun,  shall  be  unfailingly  continued.  — 
[Ed.  N.  Y.  American.]  "     That  's  you  :  Pulchre  !  bene  !  rede  ! 

637.  Whence  sense  and  judgment  wander  many  a  mile,]  The  following 
precious  specimen  of  wisdom  will  illustrate  the  text  in  a  general  point 
of  view.  (In  its  more  confined  application,  to  the  "  dissertations,"  criti- 
cal and  moral,  with  which  the  King  of  Cant  so  frequently  indulges  his 
patrons,  the  verse  is  amply  exemplified  in  other  notes.) 

"  We  commend  the  sentiment,  expressed  in  the  annexed  extract  from  Boling- 
broke,  to  those  most  violent  and  industrious  of  Propagandists — the  free  thinkers. 

" '  If  you  find  no  reason  to  doubt  concerning  the  opinions  of  your  fathers,  keep  to  them, 
they  will  he  sufficient  for  you.  If  you  find  any  reason  to  doubt  concerning  them,  seeic 
THE  TRUTH  QUIETLY,  but  take  Care  not  to  disturb  tlie  minds  of  other  7ncn.  Let  us  not 
imagine,  like  some  who  are  called  free  thinkers,  that  every  man  who  can  think  and  judge 
for  himself  as  he  h.«.s  a  right  to  do,  has,  therefore,  a  right  of  speaking,  any  more  than 
acting,  according  to  the  full  freedom  of  his  thoughts.  The  freedom  belongs  to  him  as  a 
rational  creature.  He  lies  under  the  restraint  as  a  member  of  society.^  "  N.  Y.  American, 
June  16th,  1835. 

Would  any,  but  a  very  dull  brain,  have  failed  to  see  the  drift  of  this 
most  commendable  seiitiment  ?  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  editor  of  the 
N.  Y.  American  is  a  sincere  believer;  yet  here  we  see  him  setting 
faith  at  naught,  quite  coolly ;  betrayed  into  actual  infidelity  by  the  inno- 
cence of  his  dulness,  and  the  foolish  vanity  of  affecting  to  have  read 
Lord  Bolingbroke,  by  quoting  a  passage  which  no  one  will  ever  suspect 
him  of  having  found  in  that  author  himself  Why  will  this  man  meddle 
with  matters  which  are  above  the  reach  of  his  dwarfish  understanding  ? 
and  why  will  the  credulity  of  my  countrymen,  in  submitting  to  preten- 
sions which  the  least  attention  on  their  part  would  enable  them  to  see 
through  as  not  even  second-rate  jugglery,  force  me  to  correct  so  poor  a 
trifler?  I  hope,  however,  that,  now  wakened  from  their  easy  confidence, 
they  will  no  longer  take  for  real  magic  a  childish  legerdemain,  because 
it  is  ushered  in  with  the  sound  of  a  hurdy-gurdy  and  a  tambourine, 
and  the  flaming  declaration  of  the  tumbler  himself,  but  dare  to  look 
for  themselves,  believing  this,  (were  not  which  a  shameful  fact,  I  should 
not  now  be  writing,)  that  if  such  a  man,  so  hasty  in  judgment,  so  waver- 
ing in  opinion,  yet  constant  to  his  prejudices,  so  loud  in  his  assertions 
of  liberality,  yet  so  gross  in  his  partiality,  and  withal  so  incompetent, 
by  nature   and   from  want  of  knowledge,  to  conduct  the  task   which 


316  THE    V]SlON    UF   IIUBETA. 

Thj  Stylo  !  made  up  of  parenthetic  clauses, 

(With  dashes  interposed,  to  mark  the  pauses,)        840 

he  has  ridiculously  taken  on  himself,  (a  task  which  requires,  always, 
lon^  experience  and  constant  study,  clearness  of  head  and  candor  of 
heart,)  that  if  such  a  man,  a  man  so  shallow  and  unfair,  be  permitted  to 
retain  the  place  which,  to  our  disgrace  be  it  said,  he  has  wriggled  up 
to  unobserved,  we  may  soon  bid  adieu  to  wholesome  literature,  and 
perhaps,  along  with  it,  to  sound  morality.* 

838.  Like  grammar  and  connexion  from  thy  style.]  One  example,  of 
very  many :  — 

'•  Wc  know  no  more  fitting  comment  on,  or  striking  illustration  of]  the  absurdity 
of  looking  to  the  private  opinions  of  playactorSj  or  identifying  them  in  any  way 
with  the  character  and  reputation  of  our  country,  than  are  presented  in  the  annexed 
statement  from  the  Evening  Journal  of  Tuesday,  of  a  theatrical  row  in  Albany." 
N.  Y.  Am.,  Friday,  Dec.  16th,  18.3G. 

The  absurdity  of  criticizing  the  style,  or  the  grammatical  errors  of  a 
newspaper,  is  removed,  when  it  is  considered  that  the  daily  papers,  and 
especially  the  one  here  particularized,  are  constantly  looked  to  by  the 
mass  of  the  people  as  judges  of  literary  merit,  are  referred  to  by  the 
booksellers  as  such,  f  and  have  actually  more  influence  on  the  public 
taste  than  his  long  experience  and  laborious  study  have  on  the  judg- 
ment of  a  genuine  critic.  The  N.  Y.  American  is  frequently  called 
upon  by  its  correspondents  to  decide  on  matters  of  grammar,  and  the 
like,  as  was  formerly,  (and,  for  aught  I  know,  may  be  still,)  the  Gentle- 

*  They  are  intimately  connected.  If  ignorant  men  are  suffered  to  become  our 
teachers,  we  may  derive  as  much  harm  from  the  innocence  of  misjudgment  as 
from  the  wilfulness  of  malice.  The  author  of  the  Puisuils  of  Literature  says, 
very  justly  :  "  Mankind  are  guidtd  in  their  actions,  not  by  system,  but  by  single 
impulses :  by  detached  maxims,  by  aphorisms,  by  sentences,  which  have  frequently 
the  force  of  whole  volumes."'  ( Uh  Dial.  p.  370  of  9th  edition.)  So  much  for 
Bolingbvoke  .' 

t  An  example  from  an  English  newspaper  will  be  found  to  give  a  fair  specimen 
of  a  bookseller's  advertisements  iu  our  own  : 

"Just  piihlished,  Rvo.  price  is., 

"COS.MO  de  MEDICI;  an  Historical  Tragedy.  By  R.  H.  Horne,  author  of  the  'Ex- 
position of  the  False  Medium,'  &c.  '  It  is  the  pure  old  English  school  of  dramatic  writing, 
which  the  modern  taste  fnr  still-life  classicalities  can  never  root  out  of  our  literature.' — 
Sunday  Times.  '  "  Cosmo  de  Medici  "  is  the  work  of  a  man  capable  of  effecting  high  tri- 
umphs in  dramatic  literature.'— .\tlas.  '  The  concluding  scenes  of  the  fifth  act,  for  intense 
tragic  pathos,  have  never  been  suipasseJ.'  — True  Sun.  London,  J.  Templeman,  248, 
Regent-street. " 

This  stuff  is  well  understood,  and  of  course  laughed  at,  by  men  of  sense  :  but 
men  of  sense  ate  not  the  majority  of  readers,  nor  do  they  have  a  casting  vote  in 
the  conferring  of  popularity.         •  • 


CANTO   FOURTH.  317 

Pack'd  in  each  other,  but  no  couple  mates, 
Like  Dutch  pill-boxes,  or  a  nest  of  plates ; 
While,  'mid  the  pile,  some  word  of  Chaucer's  shows 
Like  Thomas'  church,  or  Osborn's  little  oes. 


man's  Magazine  in  Londois-,  and  decides  upon  them  ■with  the  dignity  of 
a  Scaliger  pronouncing  upon  Virgil ;  for  ichatsoever  the  King  did  pleas- 
ed all  the  people.  *  On  what  basis  this  authority  rests  will  be  very 
plainly  seen  in  the  passages  wc  have  reluctantly  clipped  from  the  col- 
umns of  that  foolishly  arrogant  journal ;  and  an  entire  ignorance  of 
every  principle  of  taste,  and  of  even  the  common  elements  of  the 
English  language,  will  be  found  to  be  a  main  prop  in  the  support  of  the 
edifice.  We  wish  that  its  ridiculous  presumption,  in  matters  with  which 
it  should  have  nothing  to  do,  and  the  readiness  of  the  public  to  submit 
to  its  dogmatism,  had  not  forced  us  to  this  campaign  against  a  mos- 
cheto ! 

839-812.  — made  up  of  parenthetic  clauses,  —  [tviih  dashes  inter- 
posed—  )  etc.]  As  the  reader  has  seen,  or  will  see,  Petronius  has  an 
astonishing  fondness  for  broken  sentences  and  dashes,  wliich  he  assem- 
bles in  such  quantity,  that  an  article  of  his  composition  is  an  abso- 
lute polypus  of  lines  and  letters. 

Son  [style],  toujours  flottant  entre  mille  embarras, 
Ni  sait  ni  ce  qu'il  veut  ni  ce  qu'il  ne  veut  pas. 

BoiLEAU.  Sat.  viii.  *  * 

643.  Tf'hile,  ''mid  the  pile,  some  ivord  of  Chaucer's  shoics  —  ]  Our  "  ar- 
biter elegan."  is  an  ardent  admirer,  as  we  have  in  some  degree  shown 
already  (Canto  iii.),  of  old  and  obsolete  expressions,  or  such  as  are  adapt- 
ed only  to  poetry  or  solemn  discourse;  for  example,  albeit,  gainsay, 
moot  point,  mooted,  and  a  whole  family  of  the  like. 

S44.  LAke  Thomas^  church,  — ]  As  much  misplaced  as  the  musty  words 
of  Petro.mus  are  beside  his  modern  English,  even  so  much  are  St. 
Thomas's  church,  and  all  the  other  caricatures  of  Gothic  architecture 
which  have  followed  it  in  Manhattan,  when  viewed  along  with  the 
neighboring  dwellinghouses.  Were  all  these  fanciful  erections  Gothic 
in  any  other  sense,  than  the  one  in  which  they  are  most  entirely  deserv- 
ing of  the  epithet,  still  they  could  only  appear,  where  they  stand,  about  as 
appropriate  to  the  locality,  as  would  the  dress  of  a  knight  of  the  middle 
ages  side  by  side  of  the  petticoat  of  a  modish  lady  of  Uroadway.     The 

*  "  And  all  the  people  took  notice  of  it,  and  it  pleased  them ;  as  whatsoever  the 
king  did  pleased  all  the  people."    2  Samuel  iii.  36.        *  * 


318  THE    VISION   OF   KUBETA. 

But  this  is  naught,  thy  judgment,  to  the  charm  845 
Of  thy  consistency.     As  blows  the  storm, 

massive  building  known  as  the  New  York  University  is  a  fine,  imposing 
structure  in  itself,  and  more  correctly  built,  after  its  model,  than  any 
other  of  the  kind  in  the  country,  but  it  becomes  almost  ridiculous,  when 
we  turn  from  its  fresh-looking  buttresses,  and  castellated  eaves,  to  the 
airy  dwellings  which  surround  it.  Had  the  same  quantity  of  stone  been 
expended  according  to  some  modern  Italian  plan,  and  the  same  space  of 
ground  occupied,  the  effect  would  have  been  precisely  the  same,  as  far 
as  the  dimensions  of  the  building  are  considered,  while  the  admiration, 
which  at  present  stops  here,  would  not  have  sunk  into  a  sense  of  the 
ridiculous,  but  have  been  expanded  upon  the  details  of  proportion,  and 
upon  the  beauty  of  embellishment,  and  New  York  been  applauded  for 
good  taste  and  splendor,  wliere  she  is  now  censurable  for  extravagance 
and  incongruity. 

844.  — or  Osborn's  little  oe*.]  See  Confessions  of  a  Poet,  which  is  dotted 
all  over,  where  other  writers  use  the  capital  letter,  with  small-text  ex- 
clamations, capped  very  mysteriously  with  a  queer-looking  freemason's 
figure  (thus,  6),  so  tliat  they  are  altogether  very  like  the  astronomical 
character  of  the  planet  Mars.  The  little  cipher  by  itself,  if  the  Poet  like 
it,  may  be  very  well ;  but  what  the  devil  the  circumflex  over  it  is  doing 
in  English  I  do  not  understand,  nor  do  I  believe  its  papa  does  either. 

lb.  Osjionif  — ]  We  must  beg  this  autiior's  pardon  for  putting  him  into 
company  where,  however  censurable  as  a  writer,  he  certainly  does  not 
deserve  to  be  thrust:  but  the  awkward  and  staring  appearance,  which 
some  ponderous  antiquated  word  makes,  diurnally,  amid  the  scattered 
members  of  Petronics's  "editorial  articles,"  is  too  apposite  to  the 
typographical  oddity  of  the  PoeVs  oes,  for  us  to  resist  the  temptation  of 
placing  them  in  juxtaposition.  However,  Mr.  Osborn,*  who  does  not 
appear  to  have  the  best  opinion  of  humanity,  knows  very  well  that  men 
of  sense  are  not  often  coupled  with  their  kind.  Even  Sir  Walter 
Scott  has  been  seen  to  ride  cheek  by  jowl  with  his  coachman. 

845, 846.  But  this  is  naught,  thy  judgment,  to  the  charm  —  Of  thy  consisten- 
cy.'\  If  there  is  one  trait  of  character  for  which  Petronius,  in  his  office  of 
editor,  is  better  known  than  another,  it  is  his  never  knowing  his  own 
mind  ;  except  in  domestic  politics,  where  party-rancor  keeps  him  steady. 

*  By  the  way,  it  lias  boen  publicly  asserted,  by  the  friends  of  this  gentleman,  that 
he  is  not  the  parent  of  the  unhappy  offspring  thus  laid  at  his  door.  Very  possibly. 
Bring  us  the  right  horse,  and  we  will  clap  the  saddle  upon  him.  It  is  a  viler 
death  to  be  smotiiered  in  the  stale  beer  of  a  newspaper  than  to  be  pinned  fast  here ; 
and  I  hope  he  will  think  so. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  319 

Thou  know'st  to  trim  thy  vessel  to  the  gale, 
Or  float  unharm'd  without  or  mast  or  sail. 

This  infirmity,  however,  is  never  betrayed  in  dubitation ;  no  man  doubts 
less  than  he  ;  but  in  a  vacillancy  of  movement  only  surpassed  by  that 
of  a  cock's  tail  in  a  high  wind,  or  of  an  empty  balance  before  it  is  brought 
to  an  equipoise,  or  of  a  bubble  of  soap  tossed  up  in  air  by  the  bowl  of  a 
tobacco-pipe,  or  of  a  football  kicked  in  a  playground  by  a  party  of 
schoolboys.  What  he  says  to-day  he  is  sure  to  contradict  to-morrow, 
and  what  he  contradicts  to-morrow  it  is  ten  to  one  he  will  recall  the  day 
next  following. 

"VoilA  Vhomme  en  effet.     II  va  du  blanc  au  noir; 
II  condamne  au  matin  ses  sentimens  du  soir ; 
Importun  k  tout  autre,  k  soi-meme  incommode, 
II  change  a  tons  momens  d'esprit  comme  de  mode  ; 
II  tourne  au  moindre  vent,  il  tombe  au  moindre  choc, 
Aujourd'hui  dans  un  casque,  et  demain  dans  un  froc."  * 
We  have  already  given  some  fine  specimens  of  this  philosophical  uncer- 
tainty (notes  to  V.  801.)    The  one  we  now  present  is,  like  them,  confined 
to  a  literary  subject.    But  future  notes  will  show  that  our  wise  man  does 
not  know  his  mind  in  any  thing  (always  excepting  party-politics.) 

When  the  Harpers  published  their  flimsy  edition  of  the  collected 
works  of  Mr.  Bulwer,  the  editor  of  the  N.  Y.  American  protested  that 
he,  good  man,  saw  nothing  to  condemn  in  the  morality,  no  more  than 
he  did  to  censure  in  the  style,  of  Mr.  Bulwer's  compositions,  (which, 
it  seems,  had  in  both  respects  found  some  undazzled  critics  in  America.) 
This,  we  are  confident,  was  the  pith  of  his  remarks,  though,  owing  to 
accident,  we  cannot  quote  them  to  the  letter.  Well,  an  American  mag- 
azine says  something  which  induces  him  to  change  his  opinion ;  that  is, 
the  football  gets  a  kick  from  the  opposite  side,  or  the  bubble  catches  a 
counter-current;  and  in  the  N.  Y.  American  for  March  17th,  1838,  we 
have  the  following  modest  recantation  :  — 

"Southern  Literary  Messenger,  for  March,  1838.  T.  W.  While:  Rich- 
mond, Va. —  We  welcome  another  nunaber  of  this  most  excellent  periodical.  It 
contauns  among  much  other  good  matter,  an  admirable  article  t  on  the  Influence  of 

*  BoiLEAU.     Sat.  viii.        *  * 

t  An  idea  of  the  admirable  character  of  this  article  may  be  gathered  from  the 
following  simple  sentence,  which  forms  part  of  the  passage  cited  by  the  judicious 
"  arbiter  "  :  — 

"Erect  between  contending  parties,  like  the  pillar  of  mingled  darkness  and  flame,  Fie 
[Mr.  Bulwer]  should  gild  with  cheering  light  the  pathway  of  the  friends  of  peace  and 
order,  and  cast  a  withering  shadow  over  the  advancing  footsteps  of  destroying  anar- 
chists." !  :        *  *  , 


320  'Villi.    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

God  help  thee  !  what  a  weight  of  ballast  thou 
Must  have  between  thy  stern-post  and  thy  prow  !  850 
O  when,  reclin'd  upon  my  long  settee, 
That  sleepy  hour  between  roast-beef  and  tea, 


Morals  on  the  happiness  of  man,  and  the  stability  of  social  institutions,  and  does 
justice,  —  strict,  though  sei^ere  —  to  the  'writings  of  Bulwer.  Convinced  as  we  are, 
that  at  the  present  time,  if  ever,  it  is  incumbent  upon  the  Patriot  and  the  Christian 
to  oppose  all  the  inroads  of  licentiousness  of  opinion  as  well  as  practice,  upon  pub- 
lic morals,  we  cannot  refrain  from  inserting  some  extracts."     [Euge  /] 

By  the  by,  how  very  sincere  is  this  regard  for  "  public  morals,"  the 
notes  to  V.  974  (which  also  still  further  illustrate  the  text  before  us,) 
will  clearly  show,  if  those  already  given  at  v.  801  have  not  done  it  suffi- 
ciently. 

846-848.  — As   blows  the  storm, —  Thoii  knoid'st,  etc.]     The  Frogs" 
say,  that  it  is  the  part  of  a  wise  man  and  an  old  sailor,  to  keep  always 
to  the  weatherside  of  the  ship,  and  not  stand  like  a  figure-head  in  one 
place. 

Tavra.  fiiv   -jr^o;    avi^oi    isri    vodv   s^ovro;   ko.)   f^iva;, 

^llTaxvXivoiTv   eciiTov   ah) 

ILiKov'    iffravai,   XaSiv^'    iv  tr^ij/iie  '    to   ol   f/,i'rairr^i(piiv 

n^os   TO  fiaX^ocKcirt^ov, 
Ai|(aw    too;   af/o^og    Iitti,   xa)   ^vini    Qt)^a/jt,ivov;, 

Aristoph.  J?an.  534  -  540. 
How  much  more  wisdom  then  must  it  display,  and  practical  acquaint- 
ance with  navigation,  to  make  use  of  any  wind !  nay,  to  do  without  either 
mast  or  sail ! 

Ae^/oi/   cr^os   ivopoj   iffTi,    xai   (pv(ni   Qripafuvov;, 

*  # 

851.  O  toAen,  etc.]  Here  the  Author  offends  against  the  rules  of 
the  epopee,  by  appearing  himself.f  But  as,  in  the  famous  opening  of  the 
9th  book  of  Paradise  Lost,  we  pardon  the  irregularity  of  the  poet,  for 
the  pleasant  intercourse  it  brings  us  into  with  the  man,  so  do  we  rejoice 

*  Theramenes  was  one  of  the  Thirty  Tyrants,  and  so  notorious  for  fickleness 
of  disposition,  that  he  was  nicknamed  Cothurnus :  as  if,  at  the  present  day,  we 
should  call  Petronius  a  tavern- slipper,—  such,  namely,  as  fits  either  foot,  or  any 
foot. 

t  See  what  Aristotle  says  of  IIomek,  in  very  just  commendation.  Sect.  42. 
ed.  Tijrwhitt. 


CANTO  FOURTH.  321 

John  fetches  in  the  windegg  of  thy  brain, 

What  coffee  can  inspire  like  thee,  dear  Vane ! 

I  mark  thee  turn,  and  turn,  and  turn  again  ;  855 

in  tlie  license  taken  by  onr  own  serious  bard,  since  we  are  thereunto  in- 
debted for  new  light,  thrown  upon  the  character  of  the  most  extraordi- 
nary and  accomplished,  with  one  exception,  of  modern  heroes.         *  * 

853.  JoBN  —  ]  Not  John  Waters,  but  my  John  ;  a  much  more  rational 
animal,  or  I  should  send  him  packing  very  soon. 

855,  &c.  /  mark  thee  turn,  and  turn,  and  turn  again ;  —  And  smile 
to  note,  etc.  ] 

'■  We  are  assured  by  a  competent  source,  that  the  charge  brought  against  J 

B. ,  by  the   Evening  Post,  of  having  been  '  bought  out '  of  the   Morris  Canal 

Company,  and  to  icfiich  ice  referred  as  disqualiftjing  that  gentleman  for  a  station  of 
public  trust,  has  been  publicly  contradicted  in  his  behalf  —  that  it  is  unfounded  — 
and  that  a  suit  is  now  pending  against  the  Editors  of  the  Post  for  the  charge. 

"  Under  such  circumstances  [the  "pending  suit,"  which  has,  by  sympathy,  a  very 
cooling  effect  on  our  hot  head,]  ice  do  not  hesitate  to  recall  our  allusion  to  it,  and  to 
express  our  regret  that  it  iras  made."     N.  Y.  Am.     April  11th,  1837. 

Now,  "  the  charge"  ought  not  to  have  been  referred  lo^  until  it  should 
have  been  proved ;  but,  once  alluded  to  as  correct,  "  the  allusion  "  should 
not  have  been  recalled  until  the  charge  were  disproved. 

"Render  Justice.  —  It  is  in  compliance  with  this  injunction  that  we  insert 
below,  an  extract  from  a  letter  addressed  to  us  from  Washington  by  a  friend  of  the 

Commissioner  of  the  Land  Office,  Mr.  W ,  concerning  some  of  whose  acts,  d 

letter  published  in  this  paper,  on  25th  Feb.,  gave  bformation  /nanifestly  erroneous. 

"  We  have  not  a  doubt  that  the  version  of  the  transactions  referred  to,  given  in  the 
subjoined  extract,  is  accurate  and  authentic."     N.  V.  Am.     March  8th,  1838. 

Apply  to  this  example  the  observations  we  have  made  on  the  one  pre- 
ceding, with  the  addition  that  the  new  "  version,"  so  readily  vouched 
for,  was  "  by  a  friend"  of  the  party  inserted.  It  is  a  beautiful  thing  to  do 
injustice  for  the  sake  of  afterward  rendering  justice  !  to  damn  a  man's 
character  on  hearsay,  for  the  sake  of  redeeming  it  on  simple  contra- 
diction ! 

"  The  Journal  of  Commerce  says,  that  on  the  28th  February  it  published  the 
statement  of  the  seconds,  and  again  a  part  of  it  on  tne  next  day.  We  hasten, 
therefore,  to  correct  our  error  in  saying  that  paper  had  not  published  it."  N.  Y.  Am. 
March  Dth,  1838. 

A  man  should  never  make  a  positive  assertion,  until  he  is  prepared  to 
defend  and  prove  it. 

"  Bank  OF  THE  United  States  and  its  Liabilities.  —  As  an  appendix  to 
the  communication  of  Truth,  a  statement  we  published  in  Wednesday's  paper,  set- 
ting forth  the  supposed  liabilities  of  the  Bank  of  the  United  States. 

"  From  the  annexed  communication  in  the   Boston  Atlas,  it  appears  that  both 

41 


322  THE    VISIOJN   OF   IIUBETA. 

And  smile  to  note  thee  boldly  own  the  sin 
Of  jester  eve,  and  a  new  score  begin. 

error  and  misapprehension  arc  propagated  by  the  statement,  which,  therefore,  as  a 
matter  0/ Justice,  we  hasten  lo  Tectify."     N.  Y.  Am.     April  14th,  183!). 

A  slowness  to  adopt  a  statement  not  proved  would  have  saved  the 
haste  "  to  rectify  "  an  error  —  an  error  too  which  was  not  proved  (as  it 
turned  out  afterwards.)  TJie  error  was  "  in  round  numbers,  an  error  of 
95  millions  of  dollars  !  " 

"  In  justice  to  Capt. ,  charged  with  the  abduction  of  Miss ,  of  Erie,  we 

must  mention  tiiat  he  lias  published  a  card,  denying  in  the  most  uncjualified  man- 
ner the  outrage  charged  upon  him.  Etc."  N.  Y.  Am.  of  Thursday,  17th  May  (I 
think),  1!!:3S. 

After  taking-  away  a  man's  cliaracter  by  an  eagerness  to  propagate 
scandal,  it  is  but  poor  justice  to  mention  his  unqualijied  denial  of  the 
charge  against  him,  when  this  denial  may  never  be  seen  by  those  who 
read  the  story,  or,  if  seen,  will  be  rejected  by  the  major  part  of  them,  as" 
being  less  palatable  to  the  appetite  for  scandal. 

"  A  reply  from  G.  VV.  F ,  U.  S.  Geologist,  to  Lt.  M ,  is  entitled  to  spe- 
cial notice  from  us,  since  we  adopted,  wc  confess,  without  doubt  or  dissent,  the  grave 

imputations  cast  upmi  Mr.  F in  a  previous  number  of  this  Magazine,  ["  The 

Naval  Magazine  ; "  which  the  ed.  of  the  Am.  was  reviewing.']  It  is  due  to  truth 
and  justice  to  say  that,  in  our  jtidgment,  Mr.  F,  conclusiv.elij  refutes  the  statements 
of  Lt.  M ,  and  proves  that  they  ivere  wantonly  made  by  that  officer.  TJie  ques- 
tion will  be  understood,  and  full  Justice  done,  by  our  giving  place  to  tlie  letter 

from   the  head   of  the   corps  of  Topographical  Engineers,   Col.  A ."     N.  Y . 

Am.  Jan.  13th,  1838. 

This  certainly  is  a  curious  way  to  gain  the  reputation  of  candor :  viz, 
to  do  a  man  tlie  grossest  wrong  upon  the  one-sided  account  of  perhaps 
a  rival  or  an  enemy,  and  then,  when,  after  many  montlis,  the  wind  blows 
from  another  quarter,  to  veer  about,  and  call  the  world  to  remark  what  a 
fine  weathercock  it  is  which  is  moved  by  a  breath  and  thus  does  justice  to 
all  breezes.    But  alas  !  it  appears  that  after  all  there  was  no  wrong  done 

at  all,  and  tiiat  Mr.  F was  to  blame,  and  not  Lt.  M !  for,  on  the 

12th  May,  \83S,four  7nonths  after  the  previous  act  of  justice,  out  comes 
the  wind  again  from  the  original  quarter,  and  tlie  weathercock  brings  his 
tail  into  a  line  with  the  current    Behold ! 

"  It  is  an  act  of  Justice  to  subjoin  Lt.  M 's  replication  to  the  article  in  the 

Naval  Magazine  copied  into  this  paper,  in  which  Mr.  F assailed  a  previous 

statement  of  the  Lieutenant. 

"  We  liave  got  ourselves  unwittingly  into  this  contioversy,  but  being  in,  must  en- 
deavor to  do  Jtistice  [again  !   Qnousque,  ^'C. .']  on  all  sides." 

Unwittingly  indeed ;  for  says  the  gentleman  whose  name  was  so  in- 
decently and  injuriously  brought  before  the  public  :  "  To  this,  ["  the 
editorial  heading  of  the  article  in  the  American,"  as  above  given,]  To 


CANTO   FOURTH.  323 

As,  in  a  circus,  one  may  see  the  clown 
Throw,  at  full  speed,  his  thin  disguises  down  ; 

this  I  will  make  no  objection,  because,  from  Col.  A 's  letter  which 

followed,  the  conclusions  would,  hy  careless  reading,  ["tu  our  judg- 
vient"  says  the  Am.,  "Mr.  F.  conclusively  refutes,  ^'c.".']  by  careless 
reading  seem  to  be  borne  out  by  facts.'' 

We  could  go  on,  adding  example  upon  example  of  our  cool-headed 
Editor's  candor,  consistency,  and  love  of  right ;  but  such  trial  of  our 
readers'  patience  were  unnecessary,  even  for  the  sake  of  justice. 


The  examples  given,  by  tlic  Author,  of  our  arljitcr's  consistency,  and  with  it  of 
his  candor  and  love  of  right,  are  certainly  sufficiently  numerous  to  satisfy  the  most 
exacting  Justice.  But  we  must  be  permitted  to  show  the  reader  what  was  the 
hero's  conduct  in  the  record  of  a  recent  and  well-known  catastrophe.  This,  with 
a  single  other  case,  will  bring  the  history  of  puerility  down  to  the  moment  when 
these  sheets  are  passing  through  the  press. 

In  commenting  upon  the  loss  of  the  steamer  Pulaski,  the  N.  Y.  Am.  of  June 
25th,  1838,  thus  speaks: 

"  In  addition  to  the  facts  stated  in  Saturday's  paper  concerning  the  construction  and  the 
racing  *  of  the  Pulaski,  we  learn  tliat  her  machinery  was  cheap  —  that  is  to  say,  that  it  was 
purchased  for  about  ten  thousand  dollars  less  than  either  Allaire,  of  this  city,  or  the  West 
Point  Foundry,  to  both  whom  application  was  made,  would  undertake  to  make  it  for." 

On  the  29th  of  the  same  month,  it  says  ; 
\  "  In  respect  to  the  fact  alleged  in  this  paper,  of  the  Pulaski  having  cheap  machinery,  the 
Baltimore  Morning  Chronicle  thinks  we  are  misinformed,  and  adds  —  *  *  " 

"  In  justice  to  our  accuracy,  it  is  proper  to  say,  that  our  information  was  derived  from  a 
Senator  of  this  State,  who  received  his  information  from  the  agent  of  the  West  Point  Foun- 
dry—  and  the  fact  as  stated  by  us,  so  far  as  regards  that  Foundry,  me  must,  notwithstand- 
ing the  denial  by  the  Chronicle,  take  to  be  correct.  With  regard  to  Mr.  Allaire,  it  has  al- 
ready been  noticed  in  this  paper  that  our  information  ivas  erroneous.    *    *    * 

"  If  it  shall  turn  out  that  we  are  in  error,  it  shall  be  freely  acknowledged." 

And  accordingly,  if  we  mistake  not,  the  error  was  acknowledged ;  for  "the  agent 
of  the  W.  Point  Foundry,"  as  we  think,  declared  the  information  as  erroneous  as 
that  with  regard  to  Mr.  Allaire.     (This,  be  it  observed,  we  cannot  assert  with 

*  No  man  has  more  strongly  condemned  the  folly  and  wickedness  of  a  conten- 
tion for  speed,  between  vessels  propelled  by  steam,  than  Petronius;  and  virtu- 
ously loud  has  been  the  outpouring  of  his  indignation  against  his  brethren  of  the 
press,  for  encouraging  by  their  commendations  such  dangerous  rivalry.  Yet  no 
man  has  more  assiduously  noted  the  various  quick  passages  of  steamers,  from 
"  swift '"  to  "  swifter,"  and  to  "  swiftest  yet."   Take  the  most  recent  example  only. 

"  The  Royal  William  does  not  appear  to  take  much  pains  to  deserve  the  character  of  a 
swift  boat.  Bets  of  two  to  one  were  said  to  have  been  made  in  England,  that  she  would 
make  the  shortest  passage  ever  known."  <fec.    N.  T.  Am.  July  23, 1833. 

Were  we  to  copy  all  the  examples  of  inconsistency  furnished  by  this  great  pre- 
tender, it  is  no  hyperbole  to  say  that  the  entire  volume  of  this  book  would  not  suf- 
fice to  hold  them.         *  * 


324  THE   VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

Now  a  crooked  grandam,  then  a  simpering  miss,     sco 
And  next  a  trainband-colonel  in  full  dress : 
Admiring  crowds  of  peanut-eating  cits 
Roar  at  his  jokes,  and  clap  the  King  of  wits  : 
Ev'n  thus,  one  marks  thee  shift  thy  sex  and  shape  ; 
All  things  by  turns,  but  every  turn  an  ape.  8C5 

confidence,  as  we  have  lost  or  mislaid  the  paper  referring  to  it,  and  depend  upon 
our  memor}'.)     Moreover,  in  the  paper  of  June  23th,  we  have  : 

"  Much  censure  is  now  cast,  and  deservedly  as  it  seems  to  iis,  on  the  conduct  of  Capt. 

A ,  of  the  steampacket  Neiv  York,  who,  in  passing  the  wreck  of  the  Pulaski,  on  Monday 

last,  contented  himself  with  distant  reconnoitering,  and  lowered  no  boat  to  see  if  any  sur- 
vived the  calamity,  and  who  spent  but  two  hours,  by  his  own  showing,  in  looking  about, 
without  running  down  for  the  wreck." 

The  very  next  notice,  we  think,  acknowledges  that  the  Editor  was  wrong,  and 
promises  to  publish  the  Captain's  statement.  July  2d,  this  statement  is  published, 
and,  in  his  usual  cant,  Petronius  observes  :  "  in  our  judgment  it  is  not  satis- 
factory." 

Now,  can  any  thing  be  more  puerile  and  wanton  than  this  rash  adoption  of 
every  conflicting  story,  as  it  is  advanced  by  one  party  or  the  other,  without  waiting 
till  the  same  shall  have  been  positively  confirmed,  or  as  positively  refuted! 
puerile  and  wanton,  in  any  man  ;  but  in  the  editor  of  a  public  press,  whose  gossip 
is  for  thousands,  and,  in  course  of  post,  spreads  falsehood  or  tr«th,  as  the  case  may 
be,  frotn  one  end  of  the  United  States  to  the  other,  what  shall  we  say  of  it! 
But  to  finish  :  —  Friday,  July  27th,  1838,  we  find  in  the  N.  Y.  American,  this  para- 
graph : 

"The  case  of  the  re-capture  of  the  schooner  Lone,  about  which  so  much  boasting  has 
been  made,  as  a  'cute  Yankee  trick,  turns  out  to  be  an  affair  in  no  wise  creditable  to  those 

concerned.     It  seems  that  Captain  B [C  — ]  was  liberated  on  parole,  not  to  attempt  tq 

re-take  this  vessel,  which  parole  he  has  forfeited."  <fec. 

While  we  are  still  in  wonder  at  the  ethics  which  makes  such  a  difference  be- 
tween a  trick,  and  a?i  affair  in  no  wise  creditable,  comes  in  the  paper  of  Saturday  5 
and  lo  I  our  wonder  at  the  editor's  morality  is  swallowed  up  in  our  admiration  of 
his  wariness  of  judgment,  and  in  our  joy  at  his  candor  :  — 

"RE-c\PTunE  OF  THE  ScHR.  LoNE. — The  Courier  is  risht  in  supposing  that  we  had  not 

seen  the  denial  of  Capt.  C of  his  having  given  his  parole,  or  we  should  not  have  slated 

the  case  so  strongli/  as  was  done  in  last  evening's  American.  We  are  willing  to  believe 
Capt.  C ,"&c. 

Where  is  the  security  of  private  character,  when  the  rashness  of  a  dunce  is 
allowed  to  disseminate  partial  statements  at  the  simple  cost  of  subsequent  retrac- 
tion and  the  inadvertence  of  a  pair  of  eyes  can  be  received  as  apology  for  the 
volatile  slander  of  a  heedless  tongue  ?         *  * 

865.  —  but  every  turn  an  ape.  ]  Because,  as  with  the  clown,  the  char- 
acters are  but  assumed ;  as  we  think  to  prove  before  we  shall  have  fin- 
ished the  portrait. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  325 

Live  on  !  great  ruler  of  a  greater  press  ! 
Print  on  !  and  each  day  print  thyself  still  less ! 
Stale  politics  thy  little  brain  confuse, 
And  tender  lispings  of  some  sucking  muse ; 

Ver.  868.  Stale,  politics  thy  little  brain  confuse,  ]  This  worthy  scribe  is 
famous,  in  general  politics,  for  asserting  to-day  what  to-morrow  will  be 
sure  to  laugh  at.  Witness,  the  very  next  news  which  may  come  from 
England,  or  France,  or  from  the  Moon.  —  It  is  the  same  with  his  au- 
thors; half  a  dozen  of  whom  he  has  already  made  the  Aldeboran,  when 
the  star  turns  out  to  be  a  mere  vapor!    More  of  which,  by  and  by. 

869.  — ^^  lispings"  —  ]  Howard  Payne,  affectedly  entitled  a  col- 
lection of  poetical  pieces,  which  he  published  in  London,  "  Lisping*  of 
the  Muse." 

—  of  some  sucking  muse;]     Exemp.  grat. : 

"  [  For  the  A^ew  York  American.  ] 

"  TO  WHOM  IT  MAY  CONCERN. 

"  A  Tartar  did  you  say  ? 
What  is  a  Tartar  ? 
A  sharp  and  acid  thing  — 
Unlike  the  mind's  soft  ray 
Of  intellects  pure  spring. 

But  why  am  I  a  Tartar  ? 

Is  it  so  crude,  to  speak 

Of  female  loveliness  —  of  Grace, 

With  all  the  beauties  of  the  mind 

As  well  as  of  the  Face  ? 

*        #        # 
The  little  bird  that  aim'd  to  spring 
Above  the  Eagle's  flight. 
Took  shelter  under  his  broad  wing 
And  so  attain'd  its  height. 

Thus  did  my  muse — poor  unfledg'd  thing 
Attempt  to  soar  on  high, 
When  lo  !  —  an  Eagle  flapp'd  his  wing  — 
And  told  her  she  must  die. 

Now  as  she's  dead  —  why  there's  an  end 
Of  all  dispute  and  bartar  — 
Remember  Flaccus  as  your  friend, 
But  think  no  more  of TARTAR." 

I  believe   this  "  Tartar "  is  the  same  hand  that,  under  the   signa- 


326  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Shcepshcad  and  turtle  still  thy  page  prolong,  870 

And  Anti-Mercury  round  off  the  song  ; 

ture  of  Flaccus,  wrote  songs  for  the  N.  Y.  Am.,  the  which  so  tickled  its 
knowing  editor  that  he  equalled  them  with  those  ofAnacreon  Moore! 

As  I  liave  lost  tlic  paper  from  which  I  cut  the  above  scrap,  I  may  have 
mistaken  tlic  identity  of  Tartar  with  Flaccus.  If  so,  I  ask  pardon  of  the 
latter  gentleman,  for  laying  this  trash  on  his  back  when  he  has  stuff  of 
his  own  to  weigh  him  down. 

870.  Sheepshead  and  Turtle  still  thy  iiage  prolong,]  See  note  to 
V.  782,  back.        *  * 

871.  .find  Anti-Mercury  round  off  the  song  ;'\  See  those  delightful 
emanations  of  philanthropy  and  disinterestedness,  the  Unfortunate'' s 
Friend,  Mproved  Vegetable  Robb,  &c.  &c.,  which  render  so  instructive 
the  pages  of  the  N.  Y.  American.  If  you  have  not  the  entire  paper 
handy,  ask  your  daughter  for  one  of  her  schoolbooks,  or  consult  any  of 
the  fashionable  novels  in  your  wife's  drawing-room ;  you  will  be  sure  to 
find  these  wholesome  effusions  giving  value  to  the  cover  they  envelope. 
Or,  at  a  push,  ask  your  son,  or  your  seamstress  ;  they  have  by  heart 
these  gentle  missions  of  good  will  towards  men,  which  offer  to  the  pure 
and  delicate-minded,  and  to  the  poor  and  modest,  the  balmy  hope  of  sin- 
ning with  impunity,  and  of  drawing  profit  without  loss.  —  See  note  to  v. 
978,  in  advance. 

871.   — ] 

Cultor  enim  es  juvenum,  purgatas  inseris  aures 
Fruge  Cleanthea.  Pers.  v.   63. 

In  the  midst  of  the  advertisements  of  literary  novelties,  and  directly 
under  the  shopkeepers'  cards  to  the  ladies,  we  find  in  the  JV*.  Y.  Jim.,  of 
Jany.  1838,  a  "  Medical  Notice,  very  interesting  for  the  citizens  of  this 
country,  pa.rticularly  for  the  stranger."  Thank  Heaven,  the  editors  in 
Boston  have  not  yet  welcomed  these  beastly  agents  of  uncleanness  ! 
these  quacks,  wlio  are  but  bawds,  and  make  those  men  scarce  better 
that  admit  their  notices.     For  thee,  Petronius, 

"  The  evil  that  thou  causest  to  be  done. 
That  is  thy  means  to  live.     Do  thou  but  think 
What 't  is  to  cram  a  maw,  or  clothe  a  back, 
From  such  a  filthy  [patronage]  " —  * 

"  Do  any  thing  but  this  thou  doest.     Empty 
Old  receptacles,  common  sewers,  of  filth ; 

*  Meas.for  Measure:  A.  iii.  Sc.  2. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  327 

While  heaps  of  jaw-teeth  bid  thy  letters  weep, 
And  granite  columns  break  thy  brain's  cat-sleep, 
When,  standing  mute,  thou  contemplat'st  their  size. 
And  wonder  all  mankind  have  not  thine  eyes.         875 
Live  on  and  print,  bright  sage  !     Print  on,  to  live  ! 
So  the  year's  eagle  cits  undunn'd  shall  give. 

Serve  by  indenture  to  the  common  hangman ; 

Any  of  these  ways  are  better  yet  than  this."  *         *  * 

S72.  Jfliile  heaps  of  jmv-teeth,  etc.  ]  "  Passing  along  Pearl  street, 
near  Wall  street,  a  day  or  two  ago,  we  saw  a  large  pile  of  elephants' 
tusks  —  some  indicating  age  and  almost  decay — others  of  fine  hard 
ivory.  Upon  asking  the  porter  (who  was  superintending  the  storage  of 
them)  as  to  the  number,  he  said  there  were  400.  There,  then,  before  us, 
tvere  the  ivory  spoils  of  200  elephants  [  I !  ]  — 200  of  those  animals,  by 
the  exhibition  of  one  of  which  through  our  country,  a  fortune  is  made 
[  ! !  ]  —  and  these  200  hunted  to  death  merely  for  the  ivory  of  their 
tusks !  [Alack,  for  pity !]  The  hazards,  fatigues,  and  probably  disas- 
ters, of  the  Indians  who  had  tracked  to  their  death,  these  noble  and 
more  [not  our  Italics]  than  half-reasoning  animals  —  the  burning  sun," 
&c.  &c.  —  "  all,  all  seemed  unheeded  by  the  thousands,  and  tens  of 
thousands,  who  passed  along,  [shame  on  them !  ]  and  who  only  saw  in 
these  huge  spoils,  one  among  the  innumerable  contributions  to  human 
wants  and  luxury  of  the  Genius  of  Commerce."  *  *  *  "  Passing  through 
Greenwich  street  yesterday,  we  saw  in  the  centre  of  the  street,  a  wind- 
lass with  a  horse  turning  the  bar,  and  beyond,  an  enormous  mass  of 
granite,  cased  in  wood,  rolled  along  by  means  of  the  windlass,  on  ways 
laid  on  the  pavement.  This  [the  pavement]  was  a  solid  column  of  gran- 
ite, measuring,"  Sfc.  "  It  will  require  several  days  yet,  before  it  finishes, 
this  its  first,  and  probably  last  city,  excursion.  Some  half  dozen  men 
with  their  crow  bars,  and  a  few  blocks  of  wood  —  the  windlass  and  the 
horse  —  moved  this  enormous  pillar  along,  with  perfect  precision  —  and 
without  exciting  apparently,  more  tlian  a  momentary  interest,  in  the 
hurrying  crowds  that  passed  [!!]."  M.  Y.  Am.  May  22,  1835. 
Miratur  molem  ^neas,  — 
Miratur  portas,  strepitumquc,  et  strata  viarum.\ 

877.  —  the  year's  eagle  — ]    To  wit,  $  10,  lawful  cu-rrency  of  the  U.  S. ; 

*  Pericles,  P.  of  Tyre.  A.  iv.  Sc.  G. 
t  ViRG.  ^'n.  i.  421.        *  • 


328  THE  VISION  or  rubeta. 

AjDplauding  much  thy  wit's  diurnal  stream, 
And  wond'ring  at  thy  fancy's  nightly  dream, 
And  see,  in  essays  matter  rarely  clogs,  88o 

Thy  types  upsetting  all  things,  —  even  dogs. 

How  well  a  hot  enthusiasm  squares 
With  thy  large  shoulders  and  thy  grizzled  hairs  ! 
From  twelve  to  twenty,  all  our  thoughts  run  wild ; 
But  thou,  a  grandpapa,  art  still  a  child,  885 

and    only  this   for  three  hundred   and   more    folio  publications !     Too 
cheap!  too  cheap  !  for  such  a  world  of  stuff"!         *  * 

881  —  even  dogs.  ]     Petronius    is   famous   for  much   sympathy   for- 
these  neglected,   '^more   than  half-reasoning,"*  animals,  and  may  be 
considered  as  Hale's   opponent  in  the    Dog-days.     Like  Chaucer's 
Prioress,  (the  difference  of  sex  is  nothing,  in  the  present  case,) 
But  for  to  speake  of  her  conscience, 
She  was  so  charitable  and  so  pitous 
She  wolde  wepe  if  that  she  sawe  a  mous 
Caught  in  a  trappe,  if  it  were  deed  or  bledde^ 
Of  smale  houndes  had  she  that  she  fedde 
With  roste  fleshe,  mylke,  or  wastel  breed  ; 
But  sore  wepte  she  if  any  of  hem  were  deed, 
Or  if  men  smote  hem  with  a  yarde  smarte, 
And  al  was  conscience  and  tender  harte. 

Prologues  to  the  Cant.  Tales,  iiii.  (Works,  1561.) 
It  is  one  thing,  doubtless,  to  love  Tray,  Blanche,  and  Sweetheart,  and 
another  to  be  for  ever  talking  of  them.  Certainly  they  are  much  too 
honest  creatures  to  be  on  every  occasion,  "  little  dogs  and  all,"  lugged 
into  the  columns  of  a  newspaper,  which  are  only  fit  for  us  of  the  greater 
order  of  animals,  who  are  blessed  with  the  divine  privilege  of  setting 
types,  or  of  having  them  set  for  us.  Unfortunate  curs !  Save  me  from 
my  friends,  and,  &c.  Could  these  little  cynics  read  and  talk,  without 
doubt  they  would  have  this  very  sentiment  in  their  mouths  :  Only  preserve 
them  from  the  panegyrics  of  the  N.  Y.  American,  and  they  would  run 
from  Hale's  composing-stick. 

882.  How  well,  &-C.  ]     See  the  notes  which  follow.         *  * 

*  Vide  Petron.   De  Canibus  et  Elepli.  passim. 


CANTO  FOURTH.  329 

Mak'st  thy  first  notion  aye  thy  reason's  guide, 

Till  some  new  fancy  thrusts  the  first  aside ; 

In  love,  and  hatred,  violent  yet  weak. 

And  prompted  by  the  Devil  knows  what  strange  freak. 

'T  is  well!  for,  by  the  Heaven  that  made  thee  dull!  soo 

But  for  thy  boyish  heart,  and  girlish  skull. 

Thy  wretched  ignorance  had  sav'd  thee  here, 

Left  for  thy  readers'  daily  quip  and  jeer ! 

Whereas,  thou  now  art  hitch'd  in  rhyme  so  high, 

None  but  Rubeta  's  nearer  to  the  sky.  895 

Yes,  persevere  !  be  boy  and  woman  still ; 

Urge  thy  soft  friends  up  some  mock  Muses'  Hill  : 


Ver.  888.  In  love,  and  hatred,  violent  yet  weak,]  A  letter  to  Petronius, 
from  one  of  his  friends,  and  which  was  published  in  his  paper  some  day 
in  the  last  week  of  December,  1837,  says  :  "  Jf'hile  you  continue  to  be,  on 
the  one  hand,  a  tvarm  approver,  and  on  the  other  '  a  good  hater,''  I  am 
sure  of  my  friend.  IVhen  you  descend  to  cold  caution  and  civility,  I  shall 
be  equally  sure  1  have  lost  At?n."  This  is  a  pretty  character  for  an  um- 
pire !  for  a  dispassionate  judge  ! 

We  have  cited  the  passage  merely  to  show  what  his  own  friends  think 
of  the  newsman :  our  own  opinion  is  formed  from  his  paper  solely,  and 
the  proofs  we  shall  adduce  therefrom  will  very  speedily  show  the  reader 
on  what  grounds  we  have  based  the  assertions  made  in  the  text. 

897.  Urge  thy  soft  friends  up  some  mock  Muses'  Hill :  ]     The  "  warm 
approver"  we  are  now  about  to  regard  in  his  most  distinguished  charac- 
ter, as  a  patron  of  letters,  the  Mfecenas  of  Manhattan  ! 
"  Behold  a  monarch-martyr  (round  beset 
With  loyall  subjects)  Charles,  the  good,  the  great, 
The  grandeure  of  whose  actions  will  strike  dumbe 
The  present,  and  amuse  the  age  to  come." 

Epigraph  to  the  Frontispiece  of  Lloyd's  Memoirs  of 
the  Lives,  Actions,  8fc.  of  those  noble,  rev'd,  and  excellent 
persons  that  suffered  ^c.  for  the  Protestant  Religion. 
Lend.  1668.  *  * 

42 


330  Tiii:  VISION  or  rubeta. 

Let  Civis  copy  Shakspeare's  dullest  clown. 
And  vent,  through  thee,  his  drivel  on  the  town  ; 
Gut  fishes,  while  poetic  cookmaids  sigh  ooo 

Ver.  899,  899.  Let  Civis,  etc.]    Civis  is  a  writer  in  t?ie  N.  Y.  American, 
who,  with  modest  fear  that  its  editor  may  imagine  that  he  bestows  alt  his 
spare  tediousiiess  on  him,  presents  the  latter  with  what  he  calls  "  the 
result "  of  "  Shakspeare's  beautiful  burthen  taking  possession  of  him, 
upon  his  anniversary  "  ;  for,  as  he  feelingly  remarks,  "  he  has  no  voice 
to  sing  with,  and  when  the  chimes  of  some  of  the  old  masters  vibrate  on 
his  nerves,  he  is  fain  to  write."     And  the  editor,  with  his  usual  courtesy 
for  such  compositions,  replies,  that  "  While  Civis  thus  writes,   'his  tedi- 
ousness'  will  be  always  thrice  welcome."  [Jan.  I'Sth,  1837.) 
We  give,  to  the  honor  of  Shakspeare,  the  two  first  stanzas: — 
"Eighteen  full  years  have  traced  their  varied  round. 
With  a  heigh,  and  a  ho,  and  often  a  heigh-ho  !  — 
Since  myself,  one  morning  bright,  a  married  man  I  found, 
In  the  winter  time  —  the  deep  winter  time,  — 
With  a  hey,  and  a  ho,  and  a  hey  nonino. 

"  Eighteen  full  years  our  brows  with  chaplets  bind, 
With  a  heigh,  and  a  ho,  and  often  a  heigh-ho  !  — 
And  snows  upon  brown  locks  this  evening  I  might  find. 
For  'tis  the  winter  time  — the  deep  winter  time,  — 
With  a  hey,  and  a  ho,  and  a  hey  nonino." 
898.  —  SnAKSFEABs'a  dulhst  clown,  ]      A   mistake.     It  is   the   modest 
song  of  the  Page  in  As  you  like  it,  whose  burden  Civis  finds  so  beauti- 
ful, and  whose  chimes  had  such  efiects  on  his  cerebellum. 
"  It  was  a  lover  and  his  lass, 

With  a  hey,  and  a  ho,  and  a  hey  nonino, 
That  o'er  the  green  corn-field  did  pass. 

In  the  spring-time,  the  only  pretty  rank  time 
When  birds  do  sing,  liey  ding  a  ding,  ding. 
Sweet  lovers  love  the  spring. 

"  Between  the  acres  of  the  rye. 

With  a  hey,  e<c."  Act  V.  Sc.  3.         *  * 

900,  901.    Gut  fishes,  while  poetic  cookmaids  sigh  —  Soft  tragedy,  to 
soothe  them  while  they  fry :]  — 

"  [  For  the  New  York  American.  ] 
'■  To  the  Editor  — The  following  stanzas  were  written  to  accompany  a  short  series 
of  essays  on  the  character  and  appropriate  Cookery  of  the  Black  Fish,  or  Tautog ; 
two  numbers  of  which  were  some  months  ago  published  in  the  American.    As 


CANTO   FOURTH.  331 

Soft  tragedy,  to  soothe  tlicm  while  they  fry : 


INTary's  moral  reflections,  however,  may  appear  even  now  not  altogether  ill-timed, 
they  are  submitted  to  your  consideration  by  your  old  correspondent,  Civis. 

"  SONG 

of  Mart)  the  Cook-maid,  to  the  Black  Fish,  while  sim7nering  in  Chateau  Margaux. 
"  Full  fathom  five  tliy  father  floats, 
With  all  his  school  around  ; 
O'er  the  blue  wave,  the  fislier  boats 
Reach  now  an  anchorage  ground  : 
See,  see  !  —  'tis  cast ! 
The  boats  are  fast,  — 
The  anchors  ground  ;  the  school  is  found 
At  last!  at  last! 
The  school  is  found  at  last ! 
*  #  # 

"  But  mourn  not  thou  that  swim'st  in  wine, 
For  those  who  breast  the  wave  ; 
One  common  fate  marks  ours  and  thine, 
The  groundling  or  the  brave. 
See,  see  !  'tis  fate  ! 
Some  glittering  bait, — 
The  camp,  the  state,  gold,  love,  fame,  hate, 
Teach  all  too  late, 
They  can't  resist  a  bait ! 

A  bait !  a  bait ! 
We  can't  resist  a  bait !" 

"We  can't  resist  a  bait !"  A  moral  maxim  in  the  truth  of  which  we 
fully  agree.     Example : — 

"  We  cannot  resist  the  temptation  of  adding  here  —  though  we  know  not  whether 
it  was  meant  for  the  public  eye  —  the  playful  and  clever  envoi  which  accompanied 
these  verses.  If  the  '  simmering  black  fish  '  be  only  as  safe  from  injury  by  fire,  as 
the  poetry  of  '  Civis,  or  John  Waters,'  many  a  savory  morsel  is  in  store  for  our 
readers,  and  for  '  Mary,  the  cook-maid's  '  grateful  epicures."      Ed.  N.  Y.  Am. 

And  accordingly,  the  Kingfish  swallowed  the  mouthful  of  raw  shrimp, 
which  this  elegant  and  melodious  citizen  held  down  to  him,  in  the  shape 
of  the  compliments  which  follow,  and  was  hooked  up  as  quickly  as  the 
merest  gudgeon.  It  is  the  "  clever  e7ivoi "  of  which  we  speak  ;  and 
we  give  it  entire  : — 

"  Burii  ever  freely,  what 

I  write  that  likes  thee  not ;  — 

Wiielher  from  lapse  of  time 

J^ikc  this  now  sent ;  false  rhyme  ; 

Sterility  of  thought ; 

Tropes  labor'd  or  far  sought ; 

Abortive  metaphors 

Such  as  thy  taste  abhors  ; 


332  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Let  modest  Ward  go  borrow  Flaccus'  name, 


Lack  ofpropriet}', — 
Or  any  other  reason  why, 
But,  in  return,  dread  King  ! 
One  boon  I  crave,  one  tiling,  — 
As  thou'st  a  gun  and  hop'si  to  cock  it, 
Preserve  me  from  thy  breeches'  pocket ! 
Me  tinder  make,  me  —  tory, 
The  other  thought  is  pur-ga-tory. 
All's  said  in  saying  this, 
Slave  of  thy  lamp,  John  Waters,  or 
N.  Y.  Am.  Sept.  22,  1837.  Civis." 

So  then  Civis  is  the  same  as  John  Waters !  tliat  John,  whose  voice  is 
the  storm  of  ocean,  and  whose  sigh  the  sigh  of  sunset  sea,  for  whose  mul- 
tiplying eye  ten  ihousand  waves  have  each  its  dozen  pictures,  which,  as 
they  hurry  by,  they  hold  up  to  his  critical  inspection;  for  well  they 
know  his  taste  : — 

''  Well  art  thou  named  John  Waters,  for  the  gush 
Of  mossy  fountains  tells  sweet  tales  to  thee  — 
And  kindred  voices  greet  thee  in  the  rush 

Of  Ocean's  storms,  and  sigh  of  sunset  sea. 
Each  glassy  wave  hath  pictures  for  thine  eye, 
(They  know  your  taste,  John)  as  it  hurries  by." 
So  says,  in  the  N.  Y.  Amer.  of  Sept.  30th,  1837,  the  Philadelphian 
friend  of  John,  with  whom  John  so  amusingly  e.xchanges  compliments,  as 
we  have  elsewhere  seen,  while  their  happy  posture-master  applauds  them 
both  as  they  nod  to  each  other,  and  leaves  it  much  in  doubt  which  is 
the  greatest  quiz  of  the  three.     By  the  by,  we  wonder,  while  he  was 
about  it,  the  precise  Petronius  did  not  tell  his  children  that  Arion  is 
no  more  A'rion  than  Orion  is  O'rion. 

"Thou  knowesl  the  language  of  each  finny  tribe, 
From  savory  tautoo-  to  the  oily  whale  ; 
And  with  thy  wheedling  verso  thou  ev'n  canst  bribe 

(Wiser  than  Arion  of  the  ancient  tale) 
To  yield  them  at  thy  hook  to  thy  desire, 
And  fry  most  musically  o'er  the  fire." 
Having  no  doubt  that  the  reader  shares  our  admiration  of  the  candid 
and  critical  Petkomus,  and  of  his  poetical  friend  Joh7i,  we  shall  make 
no  apology  for  giving  further  specimens  of  the  latter's  poetry,  equally 
creditable  to  the  good  taste  and  good  sense  of  both.     The  first  in  date, 
after  "  Mary,  the  cookmaid,"  is  the  glorious  emanation  which  dazzled 
all  Manhattan  on  the  evening  of  Oct.  10th,  1837.   We  only  regret  that 
our  limits  will  not  suffer  us  to  give  it,  like  the  "  playful  and  clever  envoi" 
entire. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  333 

And  take  thy  senseless  praise  for  public  fame, 


"  Two  ladies,  Mr.  Editor,  one  day, 

Entcr'd  four  liuiidred  tliirly-fivo  Hroadwny  ; 

'Tis  there,  as  every  one  lias  heard. 

Collars  are  wrought,  and  capes  transferr'd  ; 

Linen  made  up;  boys'  mils  and  stockings 

Knit ;  frills,  kerchiefs,  oilier  things 

Cut  out,  adorii'd,  made  fit  to  wear, 

More  beautifully  than  elsewhere. 
»  *  * 

"  I  need  not  here  slop  in  my  story  ?  — 

You've  heard  of  the  Depositor}'  ? 

Heard,  said  I,  and  to  thee,  my  King  ? 

(To  whom  by  turns  each  muse  doth  sing, 

Though  none  can  Pennsylvania  ding;) 

To  whom  all  notices  they  bring, 

Or  to  thine  office  send,  pay-ing 

Kind  thanks,  and  oidre  cela  no-thing. 
»  *  # 

"  Ladies  transfer  and  jet  retain! 

Old  flowers  upon  new  muslin  trace. 

Old  Loves  on  happier  objects  place. — 

Convinc'd  the  Sons  of  our  bland  race 

Must  carry,  to  the  death,  one  face ! 

—  I  cannot  say  I  quite  divine 

The  wa}'  it's  done,  but  the  same  vine, 

Or  leaf,  or  bud,  or  fruit,  or  flower, 

Such  is  the  sex's  magic  power. 

That,  worn  by  them,  made  broken-hearted 

Our  fathers  father,  —  when  imparted, 

Impress'd,  imprinted,  or  transferred  — 

Aye,  that  is  after  all  the  word,  — 

Transferr'd  and  worn  on  fresh  muslin. 

Keeps  Adam,  as  of  yore,  from  sin  ; 

And,  while  the  sex  such  fruits  can  show, 

Will  I  suppose  so  keep  us  ;  or,  so,  so. 

*  »  # 

"  Dear  muse,  condense,  for  C K 's  sake, 

Cut  short   or  you'll  a  column  take  ! 
I'll  put  the  taper  out !    '  Dear  Sirs,' 

She  cries,  '  C K has  scissors,  — 

As  Johnson  said  of  wine,  abstain 
I  can,  but  1  can  not  refrain.' 

*  »  # 

"  If  she"  [not  the  Muse,  but  the  transferring  lady] 
••  If  she  have  any  hap|)ier  wish, 

'Tis  mine  for  her.     ftly  name,  dear  sir,  is 

IJi.ACK  Fish. 


334  THE  VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

Fancy  himself  Tom  Moore,  or  God  knows  who  ; 


The  next  in  date  is  of  Oct.  ]4th,  1837,  wliich  the  Reviewer  of  the 
Week  thus  introduces  :  — 

"  To  llie  glorious  contest  of  verse  between  D.  and  JoJin   Waters,  we  desire  not  a 
termination  — no  Adieux —  but  again,  and  oft  again,  we  liope  to  hear  from  tliem." 
#  *  * 

"  And  oh  !  how  passing  beautiful 
Seems  every  image,  when 
Fond  memory  o'er  tlie  mind  lakes  rule, — 
—  Away,  Mosaics  then  !  — 
FAc. 
"  — Away  tiicn,  Music,  shall  I  say  ? 

— With  Paintins:  ?  —  Sculpture  ?  —  Hold  ! 
— Oh,  must  the  parting  be  to-day 
That  makes  my  heart  grow  cold  ? 
Shall  I  no  more  within  th'  Apollo's  presence  stand  ? 
—  Or  gaze  upon  tliy  mountain  scene,  Raffaelle  grand  ! 

"  Thy  golden  haze,  oh  Italy  ! 
Thy  blue,  thy  violet  sea  ! 
Thy  deep  etherial  canopy 

Of  night  that  day  might  be  !  — 
Days  younger  sister  drest  in  song  to  Beauty  given  — 


"  Though  never  yet  beat  nobler  hearts,  firmer,  or  more  free, 
A  lovelier  Heaven  than  ours  hangs  o'er  lost  Raly ! 
Au  moins,  c'est  selon  moi ;  encore  adieu,  cher  B. 

John  Waters." 

Let  it  be  observed,  that,  in  tlie  very  number  of  his  gallimaufry  in 
which  he  ushers  in  as  "  glorious  "  this  execrably  wretched  nonsense, 
Petronius  thus  speaks  of  a  regular  versifier:  — 

"  Poems,  by  Wm.  Thompson  Bacon.  1  vol.  Boston  :  Weeks,  Jordan,  Sf  Co.  —  If 
there  be  truth,  as  we  believe  there  is,  in  the  universal  dictum,  that  Poetry,  to  be  toler- 
able, must  be  above  mediocrity,  —  we  fear  this  new  volume  —  elegant  though  it  be  in 
its  mechanical  execution  —  is  not  destined  to  win  public  favor. 

"  There  is  a  lack  of  genuine  inspiration  in  the  pieces  we  have  read,  though  there  is 
much  command  of  language,  and  occasional  beauty*  of  expression." 

If  there  be  "  much  command  of  language  and  occasional  beauty  of 
expression,"  we  will  bo  bound  for  it  the  "  inspiration  "  is  not  so  greatly 
lacking  as  this  King  of  critics  would  iiave  it.  But  at  any  rate,  supposing 
that  John  Waters  talked  common  sense  (which  is  the  most  monstrous 
supposition  a  man  with  eyes  can  be  guilty  of),  where  is  the  command  of 
language,  the  beauty  of  expression,  even  the  smoothness  of  verse,  in  this 
beggarly  fustian  on  crutches?  One  of  two  things  is  certain:  either  Pe- 
TRONius's  discrimination  is  sheer  stolidity  and  ignorance  (which  we  are 


CANTO  FOURTH.  335 

Tom  Moore,  or  Milton,  all  is  one  to  you.  oos 


inucli  inclined  to  believe),  or  it  is  partiality  (of  which  we  have  no  doubt). 
In  either  case,  the  man  is  unfit  for  the  chair  he  has  put  himself  into,  and 
the  sooner  he  leaves  it,  or  yields  to  another  pedagogue  Jiis  place,  the 
better  for  the  breeches  and  the  brains  of  his  disciples. 

Now  let  us  see  what  he  does  with  verses  not  of  John  Waters  &  Co. 
Eleven  days  after  the  above,  appeared  in  the  N.  Y.  American  an  elegiac 
poem,  signed  F.  W.  S.,  which  makes  decidedly  the  nearest  approach  to 
elegance  or  poetry,  that  I  ever  saw  in  the  correspondence  of  a  newspa- 
per. Not  one  word  has  Petronius  to  say  for  it.  Let  us  suppose,  in  char- 
ity, that  he  did  not  know  there  was  any  thing  in  it :  it  is  better  to  be  a 
dunce,  than  partial,  envious,  and  unjust.  He,  who  eulogises  as  a  glo- 
rious contest  of  verse  such  an  abominable  spitting-match  between  his 
friends,  must  bear  the  imputation  of  dulness  or  of  dishonesty.  How- 
ever, we  extract  a  stanza  or  two  of  the  elegy,  to  prove  Avhat  we  advance. 
Thus  it  opens  : — 

"  At  even  tide,  when  Nature's  pulse  lies  still, 

And  day's  last  murmurs,  tremulous  and  remote, 
Die  with  the  sun  which  sinks  behind  the  iiill. 
And  ECHO  scarce  responds  unto  their  note  5 

"  'Tis  sweet  in  that  lone,  melancholy  hour 

To  bend  our  silent  steps  where  sleep  the  dead. 
Where  the  wild  grass  is  waving  —  where  the  flower 
Scatters  its  fragrance  o'er  each  lowly  bed  j 

"  To  trace  upon  the  monumental  stone 

The  sacred  names  we  hallow  with  a  tear, 
And,  as  we  stand  in  silence  and  alone. 
To  say  —  "  all  that  is  left  is  buried  here.''- 

"  And  is  this  all  ?  all  of  the  burning  eye, 

Of  breasts  that  with  a  host  of  passions  beat, 
This  little  dust  ?  —  ah  !  grinding  thought,  to  die, 
And  have  our  ashes  trod  by  vulgar  feet." 

This  is  really  respectable.     Then  too  : 

"  My  mother  !  at  thy  sepulchre  I  kneel,  etc. 

*  *  * 

"  Green  be  the  turf  upon  thy  lowly  bed. 

Sweet  bloom  the  rose  Affliction's  hand  has  sown, 
For  aye,  full  often  there  the  tear  is  shed, 

And  Sorrow's  form  stands  pensive  and  alone. 

"  Not  Art  to  gild  thy  tomb  her  aid  has  lent, 
No  quaint  device  the  chisel  doth  impart. 


336  THE  VISION  or  rubeta. 

These  arc  thj  friends,  and,  loving  that  thou  art, 

Tliy  living  doeds  are  thy  best  monument, 
Tliy  KPiTAPH  is  graven  on  the  heart. 
[N.  Y.  Am.  Oct.  25ih,  1837.]  F.  W.  S." 

All  this,  (and  the  whole  poem,  consisting  of  eighteen  stanzas,  is,  some 
trifling  inadvertences  excepted,  equally  chaste,  tender,  and  musical,)  all 
this  the  editor  of  that  paper  considered  not  worth  noticing,  (and  we  shall 
find  presently  that  he  does  the  same  by  another  performance  of  the 
same  author.)  Would  the  reader  then  know  what  he  considers  a  death- 
less SONG  ?  We  have  already  given  "  copious  extracts,"  as  the  journalists 
say,  from  the  multifarious  productions  of  Jo/m  Waters:  but,  as  an  im- 
portant part  of  our  task  is  to  prove  the  candor,  good  judgment,  and  mod- 
eration oi Mons.  Triadeur,  his  poetical  midwife,  the  following  tail-piece 
will  not  come  amiss. 

'•  [  For  the  New  York  American.  ]* 

"  THOUGHTS    INSCRIBED    TO    ROBERT    W.    WEIR, 

"  On  hearing  of  the  intention  of  tiiat  Artist  to  abandon  Landscape  Painting. 
"  In  that  rich  twilight  of  entrancing  thought 

That  doth  at  times  the  jieaceful  soul  enshroud; 
When  Joy,  in  russet  livery,  waits  unsought,  — 

And  Silence,  hushing -pleasure ,  doth  seem  loud  :  — 

"  Where  Sculpture  stands  in  calm  reality, 

Tiiat  wants  but  warmth  and  breath  and  hue,  to  live  — 
The  harp  new  strung  waileth,  all  soundlessly, 
For  woman's  hand,  celestial  hopes  to  give  : — 
*  #  * 

"  The  day  doth  not  depart  from  Italy  — 

Its  beam  dissolve  in  the  cerulean  space  — 

And,  drunk  with  golden  particles,  earth,  sky. 

Air,  leaf,  play  sunshiiie  in  the  shady  place  ! 

"  Thus,  over  Rome's  Campagna,  at  thy  touch 
Thrills  the  warm  atmosphere  of  evening  light 
That  gilds  Vespasian's  Aqueduct;  and  such 
The  quix^ering  joy  that  makes  yon  cypress  bright ; 

"  That  plays  around  that  old  monastic  pile 

With  the  pure  fervor  of  a  daughter's  love, 
Wtiose  light  of  heart  maketh  some  old  man  smile, 
And  gaze  —  where  love  is  holier  3'et  —  above!" 
Is  not  all  this  exquisite  ?  and  then  the  rich  melody  of  that  touching 
line:  — 

"Whose  light  of  heart  maketh  some  old  man  smile  !" 
But: 

*  Dec.  30th,  1837.  —  This  is  the  only  piece  of  John's  (in  this  note)  wherein  the 
Italicizing  is  to  be  considered  our  own. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  337 

Thou  stick'st  at  nothing  where  thy  friends  have  part. 


"  Dear  Friend,  forsake  not  elemerilal  life!  — 
The  sky  is  M  ihine  own  !  Even  tliroiigh  me, 
Her  iiuinblest  votary,  with  feeling  rife 
Nature  this  message  doth  dictate  to  thee. 

"  The  sky  is  all  thine  own  —  the  clouds  are  tiiine  — 
The  air  of  Heaven,  a  fluid  palpable 
To  thee  as  this  thy  landscape  now  call'd  mine, 
Aerial  is  at  once,  and  stable." 
Think  of  Nature's  sending  a  message  through  John?  and  then,  admire 
that  felicitous  rhyme  oi' palpable  and  stable!  only  excelled  by  the  har- 
mony of  the  entire  triplet : 

The  air  of  Heaven,  o  Jliiid  palpable 
To  thee  as  this  thy  landscape  now  called  mine, 
Aerial  is  at  once,  and  stable. 
To  what  sort  of  things  an  "  aerial  "  may  belong  we  know  not,  but  Ave 
must  congratulate  Mr.  Weir  on  having  Heaven  for  his  "stable.  "    (No 
man  can  be  such  a  fool  as  to  mistake  the  words  for  adjectives.)     But, 
let  us  finish,  ere  we  fly  off  in  rapture  : — 

"  Breathe  color,  light  suffuse,  and  bathe  in  air  — 
Thou  dost  to  elemeiital  life  belong  — 
Th'  unborn  shall  love  thee  — Envy  speak  thee  fair  — 
And  Genius  crown  thee  in  some  deathless  song. 

John  Waters." 
'•■  In  these  lines  prophectj,  we  must  say,  dolii  fulfil  itself  —  [En.  N.  Y.  Am.]" 

"  And  Genids  crowns  him  in  some  deathless  song.'"  .' ! ! 

Commentator  meet  for  such  a  poet !  —  The  smooth,  perspicuous,  and 
sensible  John  Waters;  the  solemn,  exact,  and  capable  Petronius  ; 
where  again  shall  we  find  their  like  ?  Homer  and  Longixus,  Virgil 
and  ScALiGER,  Milton  and  Johnson,  all  their  faculties  united,  were 
but  prototypes  of  the  partnership  of  genius  and  judgment  which  illumi- 
nates the  pages  of  the  N.  Y.  American,  and  edifies  its  wondering,  de- 
lighted, and  thrice-fortunate  subscribers.  —  We  copy  a  great  deal,  it  will 
be  thought,  of  the  music  of  "  John  Waters's  Springe.  "  Indeed,  we 
prick  down  passages  from  every  song  of  his,  and  shall  until  this  work  is 
through  the  press  ;  our  reward,  that  at  some  future  day  men,  grateful 
that  we  have  preserved  these  rhapsodies,  shall  rank  us  with  the  pro- 
geny of  Cleophylus. 

902,  903.  Let  modest  Waed  go  borrow  Flaccus'  name,  etc.  ]     We  have 

seen,  at  p<  314,  the  mountain  in  labor.     Accordingly,  one  cold  winter's 

day,  out  pops  the  following  little  murine  foetus.     We  give  its  head,  with 

the  smellers  which  the  midwife  prefixed  to  it.     Anybody  who  wishes  to 

43 


338  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Know  this,  thj  foster-child ;  the  monthly  page 

see  the  body  and  tail  will  doubtless  be  gratified,  without  going  to  the  N. 
Y.  American  of  Jan.  21st,  1837,  as  no  doubt,  long  before  this  note  shall 
see  the  light,  divine  Flaccus  will  have  given  all  his  labors  to  the  world, 
induced  to  the  exposure  by  the  generosity  of  his  friend.  Long  may 
they  live,  Casaubon  and  Persius  Flaccus!  or,  Gesner  and  Horatius! 
(which is  it?) 

"  We  cordially  welcome  Flaccus  back  again  to  our  columns,  and  postpone  other 
matter  to  give  a  place  in  the  Review,  to  the  following  fine  poem. 
"  [  For  the  N.  Y.  American.  ] 
"MUSINGS— BY  FLACCUS  IN  TOWN. 
"  THE    MONOMANIA    OF    MONEY-MAKING,    Part  3. 

'  Bit  loith  the  rage  canine  of  dying  rich, 
Guilt's  blunder,  and  the  loudest  laugh  of  Hell  '.' 

[Young.] 

"  Now,  Muse  !  the  pleasures  of  the  rich  display  — 
Sweet  must  they  be,  to  tempt  the  price  they  pay  — 
A  morn  of  toil,  a  noon  of  watchful  strife. 
Deserve  rare  sunset  at  the  eve  of  life. 
Who  stoops  so  long,  at  least  should  rise  at  last  — 
A  path  of  thorns  should  blossom  ere  'lis  past ! 
Unrivalled  charms  must  such  in  Mammon  find, 
For  which  thy  tints,  oh  Nature  !  are  resigned. 
Who  drops  for  gold  such  treasure  as  a  friend, 
By  the  rash  purchase  seeks  some  glorious  end. 
Dearly  his  heart  must  prize  his  youngling  pence. 
For  which  he  drove  his  blood-born  offspring  thence  — 
Oh  !  choice  must  be  those  sweets,  for  which  the  heart 
With  the  pure  joy  of  succoring  want,  can  part  — 
What  are  those  raptures  which  his  soul  delight  1 
Come,  Muse  !  present  them  to  our  eager  sight !"      Etc. 

Sive  opus  in  mores,  in  luxum,  in  prandia  regum, 

Dicere  res  grandes  nostro  dat  Musa  pof-tse.* 
But,  jesting  aside,  how  dares  the  editor  of  the  N.  Y.  American  to  insult 
the  confidence  which  the  feminine  and  juvenile  part  of  his  readers  repose 
in  his  judgment,  by  palming  upon  them  this  peculiarly  raw  and  boyish 
doggerel,  and  common-place  nonsense,  as  a  "  fine  poem,"  when,  silly 
as  he  is,  he  knows  that,  for  such  a  nightcap-performance,  the  most 
blundering  sophomore,  even  in  that  shadow  of  a  collegef  of  which  God 

*  Pers.  i.  G7.        *  * 

t  Columbia  College  in  New  York.  — Yet  Prof.  Anthon  I  know,  by  his  labors,  to 
be  a  good  scholar  ;  Dr.  Anderson,  I  am  told,  is  an  accomplished  mathematician,  as 
well  as  a  man  of  modest  and  gentle  manners  ;  Dr.  Moore,  (late  Prof,  of  the  Latin  and 
Greek  languages,)  is  a  man  of  classical  taste,  and  is  said,  hy  those  who  know  him,  to 


CANTO   FOURTH.  339 

Where  Caesars  ape  the  Rollas  of  the  stage, 


keep  him  long  a  suitable  trustee  !  would  meet  with  no  approbation?  O 
sir,  for  shame  ! 

But  let  us  try  Flaccus  again:  practice  makes  perfect,  and  a  twelve- 
montli  in  tlie  growth  of  children  brings  about  great  changes. 

"  We  welcome  Flaccus  to  our  pages,  after  his  protracted  silence." 

[Ed.  of  N.  y.  Avt.  March  8th,  1838.] 

"  [  For  the  New  York  American.  ] 
"  MUSINGS  BY  FLACCUS. 
"  THE    MONOMANIA    OF    MONKY-MAKING  ; 
"  A  Satire.     Part  IV. 

"  Bit  with  the  rage  canine  of  dying  rich, 

Guilt's  blunder,  and  the  loudest  laugh  of  hell !" 

[Young.] 

"  Last  bliss  of  age,  when  every  bliss  decays  — 
Thee  !  faithful  Avarice,  shall  I  blame,  or  praise  ? 
Warm  youth  rejects  thy  temperate  cup  unquaffed. 
Which  yields  to  age  such  comfort  in  the  draught. 
Come  all  the  ills  on  morta'  hearts  that  prey  — 
Pains,  losses,  wants,  that  scare  the  world  away  — 
When  the  frail  hosts  of  hopes  and  pleasures  fly  — 
When  love  is  far —  this  faithful  friend  is  nigh  : 
Staunch  as  the  stars  —  with  firmer  lustre  fired, 
For  stars  in  flight  of  ages  have  expired. 
But  once  the  heart  let  loving  Avarice  clasp. 
Its  pulse  must  cease  ere  he  can  slack  his  grasp." 

This  is  quite  enough.  We  see  that  though  the  versification  is  the 
same,  (for  what  could  improve  thaf?)  there  is  a  great  advance  made  in 
originality  of  conception,  as,  for  instance,  in  the  idea  of  the  staunchness 
of  the  stars,  and  the  firm7iess  of  their  lustre.  But  it  would  be  unfair  not 
to  add  one  elegant  picture.     It  is  of  the  miser :  — 

"  with  ragged  'kerchief  now 

('T  is  all  he  has)  he  wipes  his  clammy  brow." 

be  a  complete  gentleman  :  but  all  this  does  not  make  a  good  seminary.  The  mode  of 
instruction  at  Columbia  College  is  scarcely  fit  for  the  little  boys  it  professes  to  edu- 
cate, and  the  general  remissness  (1  speak  from  'good  authority)  which  is  shown  by 
every  member  of  the  faculty  (with  the  single  exception  of  Dr.  Anthon),  from  its  vain 
head  down,  is  perfectly  abominable.  With  the  energy  of  Anthon  at  its  head,  the 
gentlemanly  feeling  of  Moore  and  the  modesty  of  Anderson  to  pervade  its  board, 
and  with  men  to  instruct  instead  of  children,  the  institution  might  be  a  first-rate  funda- 
mental school :  as  it  is,  its  building  only  graces  the  city,  and  ouce  a  year  it  gives  a  treat 
to  budding  misses,  when  .from  its  pretty  green  out  struts  a  liule  regiment  of  gowns 
four  feet  by  one,  the  future  sciolists  and  pedants  of  Manhattan. 


340  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Prelates  unfrock'd  in  Pyrrhic  frenzy  dance,  i)io 


We  have  shown  how  John  Waters  surpassed,  in  the  estimation  of  Pe- 
TRONius,  all  Ills  otiier  contributors,  and  especially  one  F.  W.  S.  We  shall 
now  find  the  same  F.  W.  S.  to  be  nothing  in  comparison  with  Flaccus. 
And  first,  referring  the  reader  back  to  the  graceful  elegy  which  we  quo- 
ted on  a  preceding  page,  we  would  observe,  what  is  greatly  to  Petro- 
nius's  credit,  that  the  Reviewer  of  the  JFeek  is  remarkably  consistent  in 
these  particulars,  and,  lest  we  should  think  he  had  forgotten  liis  discrimi- 
nation, five  days  after  the  elegy  out  comes  a  swinging  piece  by  Flaccus,  a 
roaring  lament  of  the  unfortunate  steamer  Home,  whose  loss  was  rar 
ther  too  calamitous  to  be  made  the  subject  of  such  shocking  psalmody. 
However,  what  says  the  just  Petronius  ?  He,  who  found  nothing  worth 
noticing  in  that  so  tasteful  elegy,  thus  ushers  in  the  crutched  muse  of 
Flaccus,  which  surely  should  not  need  an  introduction.  "  We  welcome 
Flaccus  again,  after  his  too-long  silence.  He  sings  a  most  touching- 
dirge  in  the  annexed  lines."  And  the  poem  enters.  "Silence  ye  wolves!" 

"  [  For  tlie  New  York  American.  ] 

''  MUSINGS,  BY  FLACCUS. 
"  THE  WRECK  OF  THE  "  HOME." 

"  On  Hudson's  noble  waters 
A  sea-bound  vessel  rides, 
Of  graceful  mould,  and  seeming  strength, 
To  rule,  and  scorn  the  tides." 

This  is  a  sufficient  specimen.  We  will  merely  add  one  noble  distich 
from  this  "  wreck"  of  matter,  and  sweet  crush  of  rhynae. 

'•'  Her  plunging  wheels  are  mired  in  brine  — 
Quench'd  is  her  vital  Jlame." 

The  first  line  shows  us  what  is  called  being  in  a  pickle ;  and  the 
next! — the  vital  flame  of  a  steamboat!  —  nothing  can  equal  it!  not  even 
the  concluding  line  of  the  next  stanza  hut  one, 

"  Her  back  is  broke  in  tiraiu  !  " 
Shame,  sir!  Shame,  sir  Editor!  Durst  I  jest  upon  so  melancholy  a  dis- 
aster, I  should  say  it  were  bad  enough  to  go  to  the  bottom,  without  be- 
ing  hauled   over   the    coals  of  a  poetical  damnation.     To  borrow  the 
"  touching  "  conclusion  of  the  "  dirge  *'  itself, 

"  Howl !  howl !  ye  strangling  billows. 
And  drown  that  piteous  moan  — 
Ye  ne'er,  in  all  your  murderous  course, 
A  fouler  deed  have  done  I" 

Than  Flaccus. 
Thus  having  shown  F.  W.  S.  and  Flaccus  side  by  side  in  elegy.  Jet 
us  see  them  compared  in  satire.     Contrast,  with  the  above  satirical  pas- 


CANTO   FOURTH.  341 

And  Joans  chop  logic  with  a  child  of  France. 

sages  from  a  poet  (God  forgive  us!)  whom  Petronius  considers  as 
"inspired,"  the  following  selections  (made, like  them,  from  the  beginning 
and  the  middle  of  the  piece  to  which  they  belong,)  from  a  versifier  who 
is  too  mean  for  even  a  "  welcome." 

"  [  For  the  New  York  American.  ] 

"  A   POETICAL    EPISTLE. 
"  TO  C.  F.  M. 

'*  'T  is  eveuiiijr  now  —  ihe  sun  has  sunk  to  rest, 
And  left  liis  golden  memory  in  llie  west ; 
Where  from  the  horizon's  edge,  far,  far  on  high, 
Flooded  with  beams  of  light,  the  fleecy  sky 
Melts  from  its  fiery  blaze,  and  Tyrian  hue, 
To  Heaven's  own  clearest,  most  transparent  blue. 
And  still  the  god  throws  up  his  parting  ray, 
As  loth  to  leave  the  empire  of  the  day  ; 
While  close  usurping  twilight  steals  apace, 
A7id  the  street  star  of  Eve  resur}tes  its  wonted  place. 
And  now  from  care,  from  avocations  free. 
My  heart  unerring  still  returns  to  thee. 
Sighs  o'er  the  vanish'd  scenes  "  to  mem'ry  dear," 
And  at  this  peaceful  hour  invites  thee  here. 
Sick  of  the  unhappy  toicn,  where  grim  despair 
Stalks  o'er  the  ruins  and  infects  the  air,"  etc. 

[Ubiplura,  Sfc.     The  2d,  4th,  5th,  and  6th  verses  do  not  weaken  our 
position.)     Then,  a  specimen  of  vigor : 

■'  When  past  the  second  mile-stone  thou  hast  gone. 
And  left  the  seventy  stenches  of  the  town, 
Look  at  the  mapp'd  out  fields,  too  small  by  half, 
And  shake  your  costive  bowels  with  a  laugh  — " 
We  will  add,  to  make  the  contrast  still  stronger,  some  other  verses 
from  the  same  poem. 

"  There  thy  good  sire,  beside  Ids  little  stall, 

Wax'd  the  light  thread,  and  plied  the  nimble  awl." 
#  #  *  # 

"  While  perclid  on  high  the  deep-mouth'd  auctioneer 
Brandished  his  little  hammer  in  the  air, 
And  playful  jib'd,  nor  reck'd  the  master's  frown. 
But  knock'd  the  glittering  heaps  of  lumber  down. 
As  day-dreams  which  disiemper'd  fancies  bring. 
As  snow-flakes  melting  on  the  breath  of  spring. 
As  empty  bubbles  cast  upon  the  shore. 
All  glorious  with  the  light,  then  seen  no  more. 
His  pride  departs,  and  his  ephemeral  state. 
And  the  unmeaning  pomp  that  made  him  great. 
While  silent  is  that  mansion  as  the  dead, 
Nor  echoes  to  the  master's  stately  tread. 


342  THE  VISION  of  rubeta. 

There    TToffman,    Herbert,   Bird,    their    strength 
combine, 

Von  sin^n-bonrci  tells  llie  moral  of  his  tale, 
'  This  splendid  lawn  and  country  seat  For  Sale.' 
[  N.  Y.  A7ner.  Sept.  1,  1837.  ]  F.  W.  S." 

The  poem,  it  is  true,  is  very  unequal,  and  contains  notiiing  novel ; 
but  it  everywhere,  displays  the  aim  to  copy  a  correct  model,  and  to  work 
by  proper  rules ;  and  this,  with  diligence,  may  do  much.  Some  distinct 
passages  are  smooth,  fluent,  forcible,  and  almost  elegant ;  and  the  whole 
is  much,  very  much  better  than,  all  put  together,  the  stuff"  which  has 
charmed  the  editor  of  the  American,  and  other  wiseacres,  for  years. 

The  reader  may  think  we  are  making  a  mountain  of  a  mole-hill.  He 
shall  judge.  If  to  the  couple  of  paragraphs  we  shall  now  copy  he  will 
but  add  the  fact,  that  the  opinion  of  the  editor  of  the  N.  Y.  American  car- 
ries with  it  as  much  weight,  for  ninety -nine  out  of  a  hundred  readers  in  the 
Union,  as  that  of  any  reviewer,  weekly,  monthly,  or  quarterly,  he  will  see 
at  once  that  it  required  something  else  than  satire  to  expose  the  inanity 
of  his  pretensions,  —  that,  in  a  word,  our  object  in  these  protracted  notes 
is  to  appeal  to  the  reader's  judgment,  without  convincing  which,  no 
ridicule  could  have  any  permanent  effect. 

"  From  the  Newark  Daily  Advertiser  we  extract  the  following  remarks,  and  just 
praise  of  our  correspondent  Flaccus.  Such  testimony  from  such  a  source  [  eh  !  ]  can- 
not fail  of  being  grateful  to  the  bard  —  as  it  is  to  us  —  who  are  gratified  in  ushering 
forth  his  inspired  lays." 

#  *  *  "  '  It  is  impossible  7iot  to  be  struck  with  the  animation  and  strength  which 
pervade  all  the  inequalities  of  this  favorite  writer's  compositions,  and  which  keeps 
constantly  on  the  mind  the  impression  of  poicer,  spirit,  and  genuine  intrepidity. 
There  is  no  pompous  littleness  or  puling  classical  affectation  — nothing  cold,  creeping, 
or  feeble.  We  could  wish  that ,  he  would  detiicate  himself  to  some  lofiy  theme  of 
permanent  interest.'  "        A^.  Y.  Am.  Aug.  10th,  1837. 

We  must  be  permitted,  as  in  the  case  of  Jolin  Waters,  to  add  a  tail- 
piece to  all  this  rhyme  and  commentary. 

"Capital  satire  is  conveyed  in  the  annexed  '  Flaccns,'  sportive  yet  caustic,  gentle, 
just,  and  admirably  well  timed."     [  Petronius  Americanus,  March  17th,  1837.] 

"  [For  the  New  York  American.'] 
"Musings  —  by  Flaccus  in  Town. 
»  *  * 

"  Our  rich,  whom  overgrown  estates 
Oppress  with  care,  and  trouble  — 
How  do  they  ease  them  of  their  load? 
They  go  and  make  it  double. 

"  Our  widows,  when  divorce,  or  death 
Their  galling  halter  looses. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  343 

And  little  Benjamin  new-rules  each  line. 


No  salve  like  noose  from  (lint  same  cord 
Can  liiul,  to  soothe  their  bruises." 
Etc. 

Quid  refert,  tales  versus  qua  voce  legantur  ?  * 
We  are  always  at  a  loss  wl)ich  most  to  admire,  in  the  "  inspired 
lays "    of  "  this  favorite  writer,"  —  their  sense,  their  originality,  their 
versification,  or  their  good  English. 

904,  903.  Fancjf  himself  Tom  Moore,  or  God  knows  who ;  —  Ton 
Moore,  or  Milton,  ail  is  one  to  you.  ]  In  one  of  his  comments  on  this 
classic,  Petromus  bade  all  the  little  girls,  that  read  his  paper,  to  take 
particular  notice  how  that  Master  Flaccus  was  equal  to  Tom  Moore  : 
whereupon  all  the  little  girls  did  take  note  thereof,  and  came  to  the  con- 
clusion, that,  though  Flaccus  might  surpass  John  Milto.v,  for  aught  they 
knew,  yet  certainly  the  ingenious  Petronius  ^Tas  well  worth  two  whole 
Flaccusses  and  a  half,  agreeing  therein  with  what  was  pronounced  upon 
a  similar  great  editor,  commenting  on  another  great  satirist:  "la  sauce 
vaut  mieux  que  le  poisson." 

906,  907.  —  loving  thai  thou  art,  —  Thou  slickest  at  nothing  ivhere  thy 
friends  have  part.]     To  use  the  words  of  Dryden  :  "  Such  is  the  par- 
tiality of  mankind,  to   set  up  that  interest  which  they  have  once  es- 
poused, though  it  be  to  the  prejudice  of  truth,  morality,  and  common 
justice;  and  especially  in  the  productions  of  the  brain,"     {Discourse  on 
Satyr,  prefixed  to  his  Juvenal,  p.  Iv.  Lond.  1754.)     Never  did  any  man 
come  up  to  Petromus  in  this  admirable  constancy  : 
A  facie  jactare  manus,  laudare  paratus, 
Si  bene  ructavit,  si  rectum  minxit  amicus,  f 
Lord  Byron  enumerates,  among  the  virtues  of  a  vfriter, partiality,  because 
it  makes  him  icrite  in  earnest !  t     The  same  is  bread-and-butter,  —  or 
the  want  of  it;  and  if  this  virtue  have  but  degrees,  how  high  shall  we 
mount  Petromus  in  the  scale  of  literary  perfection  ?     O  !  there  is  no  ac- 
cident-maker, from  Canada  to  Texas,  that  should  come  up  to  him. 

905.  Know  this,  thy  foster-child;  etc.]  Had  the  editor  of  the  N.  Y. 
American  any  decency,  he  would  never  constitute  himself  a  judge  where 
his  personal  friends,  or  acquaintance,  are  concerned,  but  remember  to  ob- 
serve, that  "  quod  probi  et  modesti  judices  solent,  ut  in  his  cognitionibus 
se  excusent,  in  quibus  manifestum  est,  alteram  apud  eos  partem  gratia 

*  Juvenal  of /iomer  atk/  Virgil.    Sat.  xi.  180.        ** 
t  Juv.  iii.  106,  107.  ** 

i  See  the  first  note  to  the  12th  Canto  of  tlie  most  characteristic  of  his  poems, 
—  Don  Juan.  *  * 


344  THE  VISION  of  rubeta. 

But  wo  betide  him,  better  never  born, 

prsnvalere."  *  "  For,  though  I  speak  it  to  you,  I  tliiiik  tlio  Kiug  is  but  a  man, 
as  I  am:  the  violet  smells  to  him  as  it  doth  to  me;  the  clement  shows  to 
him  as  it  doth  to  me  ;  all  his  senses  have  but  liuman  conditions."  f  If  he 
will  play  the  critic  where  it  is  unnecessary,  (for,  observe,  the  office  is  a 
voluntary  one  with  him,  or,  in  vulgar  English,  none  of  his  business,) 
he  must  do  one  of  two  things,  either  praise  or  dispraise.  If  he  choose 
the  latter,  he  is  sure  to  offend — his  friends;  if  the  former,  in  nine  cases 
out  of  ten,  which  fall  under  his  inspection,  he  must  insult  common 
sense  and  impose  upon  the  public. 

909-911.  — the  monthly  page — Where  Casars,  etc.]  To  wit,  the 
American  Monthly  Magazine ;  which  its  patron  is  so  accustomed  to  eu- 
logize, that,  he  justly  remarks,  "  it  ceases  to  sound  like  praise."  It  keeps 
ever  on  the  same  gallop  with  Petronius,  like  the  horses  on  the  sign  of 
a  stage-house.  —  We  give  some  specimens,  to  illustrate  the  text. 
"  A  soothsayer  approached.  '  Ctesar,'  said  he,  '  beware  the  Ides  of  March  !' 
"  '  That  sepulchral  note  is  familiar  to  my  ear/  e.xclaimed  Caesar  ;  '  who  art  thou 
mysterious  visitant,  that  thus,  in  a  voice  as  hollow  as  that  of  the  bittern  in  the  wil- 
derness, a  se«ond  time  Grossest  the  pathway  of  Julius  ?  1  charge  thee  answer  me.'  " 
The  Fall  o/Cwsar. 

"  From  the  paper  on  Joan  of  Arc  we  make  this  capital  extract,'''  [Ed. 
N.  Y.  American.] : — 

"  '  How  now,  my  lieges  !'  cried  the  youthful  king,  standing  erect  in  the  centre  of 
the  hall,  '  have  ye  no  warmer  welcome  for  your  sovereign  than  these  tumultuous 
clamors  —  methinks  such  tones  were  best  reserved  till  we  join  fronts  with  England's 
archery  ;  and  then,  my  lords,  will  Charles  send  forth  his  voice  to  swell  the  war-cry 
of  his  fathers  !  —  Mont  Joy  Saint  Denis  !' 

"  '  But  little  chance  is  there.  Beau  Sire,'  interrupted  the  warrior-bishop,  with  a 
freedom  of  speech  that  would  at  any  time  have  been  deemed  to  border  upon  dis- 
courtesy at  least,  if  not  on  treason  — '  But  little  chance  is  there.  Beau  Sire,  that 
France's  nobles  should  be  summoned  to  other  conflict  than  that  of  the  midnight 
banquet  or  the  morning  chase,  by  a  prince  who  deems  it  fitting  his  own  dignity  to 
lead  his  low-born  concubines  into  the  very  halls  of  his  high  Parliament !  —  And  for 
that  matter,  little  chance  is  there  that  they  would  heed  his  bidding,  even  should  he, 
in  some  wild  caprice,  unfold  the  oriflamme,  and  call  his  vassals  to  the  field  of 
honor.' 

"  '  Sayest  thou.  Sir  Bishop  !'  shouted  the  gallant  boy,  his  brow  crimsoning  with 
the  eloquent  blood  of  indignation  —  'Sayest  thou  —  and  to  me?  —  Now  by  the 

*  Taciti  de  Oratorihus  Dial.  Cap.  v.        *  * 

t  Henry  V.  A.  iv.  Sc.  1. —  Cickro  says,  (Bnttus,  15,)  "  Quern  vero  exstet,  et  de 
quo  sit  memorisn  proditum,  cloquentem  fuisse,  id  ita  esse  habitum,  primus  est  M. 
Cornelius  Cethegus,  cujus  nloquentiw  est  auctor,  et  idoncus  quidem  mea  senten- 
tia,  Q.  Ennius,  —  prEsertim  quum  et  ipse  eum  audiverit,  et  scribat  de  mortuo ;  ex 
quo  nulla  suspicio  est,  amicilice  causa  esse  mentitum."         *  * 


CANTO   FOURTH.  345 

Who  holds  thee,  or  thy  dirty  trade,  in  scorn !  9i5 


honor  of  a  child  of  France,  tliou  shall  account  to  me  for  this  outrage.  —  Ho  !  Du- 
nois  —  summon  our  guards,  and  let  yon  brawler  learn  if  cope  and  cowl  should  buck- 
ler such  a  cause  as  he  has  dared  uphold  this  morning." 

There  is  a  little  more  of  this  very  natural  talk,  to  which  Pizarro  is 
notliing  ;  (and,  by  the  by,  in  a  child  of  France,  we  have  the  closest  trans- 
lation we  have  ever  seen  of  that  very  difficult  phrase,  enfant  de  France.) 
Then,  "  the  gates  are  flung  open  at  the  monarch's  cry."  "  Forward  ! 
my  guards,"  cries  the  child  of  France ;  and  the  child  of  France  rushes 
forward  to  collar  the  bishop.  "  A  hoarse  low  murmur  ran  through  the 
hall  like  the  shuddering  breath  that  agitates  the  woodland  before  the  com- 
ing of  the  tempest : "  aifd  "  at  this  critical  moment,"  when  the  king  "  mark- 
ed," or  "  recked  not,"  the  running  of  this  shuddering  breath  which  agitates 
the  woodland,  "  the  Maid  of  Arc  "  strides  up  to  them  like  a  great  fish- 
woman.  "  Forbear  !  "  she  cried,  in  a  voice  so  high  and  musical  that,  even 
in  that  moment  of  excitement  and  impending  violence,  it  fell  on  every 
ear  u't/A.  a  soothing  sound,  and  arrested  every  impetuous  arm  —  "  Forbear ! 
thou  child  of  France —  and  thou,  sir  Bishop  "  —  and  having,with  the  soothing 
5ou?i</ of  this  high  voice,  brought  the  dogs  to  order,  she  ejaculates,  "  I  tell 
you  that  this  child  of  France  shall  buckle  on  the  sword,  &c."  Whereupon, 
the  nurses  and  attendants  of  the  child  bawl  out,  "  To  arms  !  "  "  till  bat- 
tlement and  turret  seemed  to  rock  before  the  earthquake-clamor."  And 
here  the  "  extract"  terminates,  just  as,  I  suppose,  the  writer  was  going 
to  tell  us,  how  they  were  all  swallowed  up.  Pope  defines  Magazines, 
as  "  Those  monstrous  collections  in  prose  and  verse,  where  Dulness  as- 
sumes all  the  various  shapes  of  Folly,  to  draw  in,  and  cajole  the  rab- 
ble." *     I  am  afraid  this  same  Popf,  told  very  great  lies. 

912.  There  Hoffman,  Herbert,  etc.]  When  the  preceding  note  was 
written,  the  American  Monthly  Magazine  was  under  the  special  man- 
agement of  the  two  first  gentlemen.  Some  time  after,  it  changed  again 
its  auspices,  (this  being  the  second  time.  Magazines  are  never  steady  in 
any  thing  but  frivolity  and  dulness,)  and  made  up  a  trio  with  the  assist- 
ance of  the  author  of  Calavar.  They  still  contribute  to  its  welfare,  we 
believe,  though  at  present  the  monthly  sheet  acknowledges  Mr.  Benja- 
min for  its  sole  editor.  We  hope  it  may  do  bettor  under  his  protection, 
direction,  subjection,  election,  inspection,  reflection,  refection. 

76.  —  HoFFMAfr  — ]  At  present,  editor  of  the  JST.  Y.  Mirror :  a  young 
man  of  very  good  abilities,  which,  but  for  the  flattery  of  his  friend  of  the 
American,  might  have  been  devoted  to  some  more  useful  employment 
than  the  concoction  of  nonsense. 

*  IJunciad,  Bk.  i.  A'ote  to  v.  42. 

44 


346  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

What  though  the  errant  knight  wore  woman's  clothes? 


Ver.  912.  — Hesbbht  —  ]  Mr.  Herbert  is  a  man  of  very  fair  talents  (if 
we  may  judge  from  the  fifty-eight  pages,  which  we  were  able  to  wade 
through  in  very  sleepy  weather,  of  his  Cromwell),  but  still  more  wordy 
than  his  quondam  fellow- magazinist,  Dr.  Bird.  It  may  be  interesting  to 
the  reader  to  know,  that  "  his  best  manner,"  according  to  Petromus, 
"is  little  inferior  to  that  of  the  masters  of  historical  romance." 

adulandi  gens  prudentissinia  — 

*  #  * 

longum  invalidi  collum  cervicibus  asquat 

Herculis,  Antseum  procul  a  tellure  tenentis  .* 
"Well,  God   give  them  wisdom,  that  have  it;  and  those  that  are  fools, 
let  them  use  their  talents."  f 

Ih.  —  Bird — ]  The  well-known  author  of  several  romances.  He  pos- 
sesses considerable  abilities,  'and  writes  at  times  with  a  great  deal  of 
heavy  polish.  For  the  rest,  as  the  reverend  Father  Benedictine  says  of 
Confucius,  "  C'est  un  bon  pr6dicateur ;  il  est  si  verbeux  qu'on 
n'y  pent  tenir."  | 

913.  —  liltle  Benjamin  new-rules — ]  Allusion  to  the  phrase  of  Scrip- 
ture, "Little  Benjamin,  the  ruler,"  in  the  enumeration  of  the  tribes  that 
were  present  at  tlie  translation  of  the  ark.     Psalm  Ixviii.  27.  §  *  * 

Ih.  —  Benjamin — ]  The  American  Monthly  Magazine  for  February, 
1838,  p.  139,  furnishes  the  following  "  Sonnet,  by  Park  Benjamin." 

"  Sonnet. 

"  Oh  truant  heart !  come  back  to  thine  own  home  — 

Let  not  the  roses  lure  thee,  nor  the  blooms 

Of  the  young  spring  entice  thee  more  to  roam  5 

Be  thou  not  dazzled  by  those  sparkling  rooms 

Where  Beauty  plays  the  queen,  and_^a.?/!e.?^e77js 

From  her  dark  eyes,  and  from  her  red  lips  pearls ; 
Oh  truant  heart!  frail  are  the  loses'  stems, 
They  break  in  showers  -^  and  sudden  tempest  hurls 


*  Juv.  iii.  86,  88,  89. — For,  of  course,  there  is  but  one  master  of  the  historical 
romance,  who  is  tlie  Hercules,  Sir  Walter  Scott  ;  all  the  rest  are  but  his  imita- 
tors, serviim  pecus,  —  the  infinitely-multiplied  copies  of  one  great  original,         *  * 

t  Twelfth  Night,  A.  1 ,  Sc.  v.        *  * 

I  Voltaire.  Lett.  Chin.  iii.        *  ** 

§  In  the  sacred  text,  as  we  read  it,  the  verse  is  thus:  "There  is  little  Benjamin 
with  their  ruler,  the  princes  of  Judah  and  their  council,  the  princes  of  Zebulon,  ««<£ 
the  princes  of  Naphtali."  Neither  the  with,  nor  the  ands  occur  in  the  original,  as 
may  be  supposed.  The  verse  is  therefore  literally  :  ''  There  is  little  Benjamin  the 
ruler,"  &c.         *  * 


CANTO   FOURTH.  347 


Down  must  he  go  !     This  hapless  Kemble  knows. 
Thou  too,  bold  Cooper,  may'st  attest  the  same. 
Or  own'st  thy  genius,  still,  his  well-earn'd  fame  ? 


The  spring  blooms  to  tlie  eiirtli,  and  Beauty  pales  — 
'T  is  Life's  sweet  star,  dimmed  by  the  7110011  of  Time  ; 

Then  come  !  come  to  the  fountain,  heart,  that  never  fails, 
r^ountain  of  hallowed  genius,  thoughts  sublime, 

That  flows  through  dream  land,  pure,  and  bright,  and  free  — 
There  is  thy  home,  my  heart :  the  fount  is  Poesy." 

The  modesty  of  the  three  last,  exquisite  lines,  is  only  equalled  by  their 
truth,  to  the  exactness  of  which  the  lines  themselves  bear  such  evidence. 
The  sonnet  is  signed,  in  the  Magazine,  P.  B.,  —  which,  I  suppose,  is  the 
cipher  for  Past  hearing, 

917.  —  This  hapless  Kembls  linows.']  Till  the  book  came  out,  nothing 
was  like  Miss  Frances  Kemble,  Avith  the  N.  Y.  American,  (except 
Pa\ti,  and  BoRDOGM,and  half-a-dozen  others  ;)  but,  on  the  discovery  of 
the  young  lady's  sentiments  for  newspaper-editors,  the  American  became 
wonderfully  enlightened  as  to  her  merits,  and  did  not  hesitate  even  to 
abuse  the  father  to  hurt  the  child,  "  The  charming  Fanny,"  he  says, 
May  16th,  1837, 

The  "  charming  Fanny  "  has  got  into  the  hands  of  a  press,  more  formidable  than 
that  of  the  newspapers.  The  Lithographers  have  seized  upon  her,  and  recorded 
upon  enduring  stone,  some  of  her  own  scenes,  after  her  own  manner  —  this  too,  is 
only  No.  1,  and  a  succession  of  these  sketches  is  threatened  !  There  are  four  in  this 
number,  of  which  that  representing  the  coming  home  "  of  my  Dear  Father,  a  little 
elated,"  —  710  UTicommon  occurrence,  by  the  way  —  is  ti  decidedly  good  hil." 

This  is  almost  as  humane  as  child-murder!     TantcEne  animis,  &c.  ?* 
9IS.  Thou,  too,  bold  CoorER,  etc.]     For  a  similar  offence   with  that  of 
Mrs.  Bdtler,  Mr.  Cooper  (though  wearing  any  thing  but  a  petticoat)  has 

*  It  is  not  a  petticoat  which  can  disarm  the  maliciousness  of  this  manly  gentle 
man.  In  his  paper  of  June  2ith,  1837,  is  this  (voluntary,  observe)  facetious  para- 
graph :— 

"The  *  *  *  by  I.adv  *  *  *.  2  volumes.  Philadelphia:  Carey,  Lea,  if  Hart. — 
Mylady  *  *  *  in  these  volumes,  which  purport  to  illustrate  the  heartlessness  of  Lon- 
don society  of  the  haut  tmi,  bears  her  testimony  in  favor  of  virtue  ;  and  as  —  like  the  can- 
did Scotchman,  who,  having  'tried  baith,' recommended  lionesty  as  the  best  policy  —  her 
ladyship  is  also  supposed  to  have  'tried  baith,'  her  le.stiinony  comes  with  all  the  sanction 
of  experience." 

Is  not  this  amiable  ?  Is  it  not,  to  use  the  Editor's  darling  phrases,  marthj,  and 
high-minded  ?  Consider  that  this  abuse  is  of  a  person  who  never  did  him  the  least 
harm,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  it  is,  precisely.  It  is  just  such  a  display  of  malice 
as  might  be  made  by  the  envy  and  malignity  of  the  Devil  :  nor,  as  we  have  said  in 


348  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Surely  no  common  laurel  shields  thy  brow  920 

From  such  a  Jove  as  thunders  at  it  now  ! 


been  similarly  visited.  Nor  has  the  lapse  of  years  wiped  out  the  trans- 
gression of  the  latter  ;  for  who  may  say  unlo  the  King,  Jf  hat  doest  thou  ?  * 
"  The  MoNiKiNS.  —  As  we  learn  throiigli  several  papers  that  '  the  puhlic  expecta- 
tion! [precisely  so  printedt]  in  relation  to  Mr.  Cooper's  new  work,  will  shortly  be 
gratified/  we  presume  there  will  be  a  portion  of  the  gratification  afforded,  by  the 
'  introduction  '  thereto,  which  we  find  in  the  National  Gazette.  This  introduction 
has  one  merit  certainly,  that  of  not  spoiling  the  interest,  by  giving  the  slightest  clue 
to,  the  nature  of  the  work."     A^.  Y.  Am.  July  G,  1835. 

How  different  this  invidious  notice  from  the  adulation  with  which  Mr. 
Irving  is  addressed  on  all  occasions,  from  all  quarters,  J  from  Tom  to 
Dick  of  the  newspapers,  from  the  dictator  of  the  American  Quarterly 
Review  to  the  youii;:-  tribunes  of  the  American  Monthly  Magazine! 
Contrast,  with  tlie  above  mean  and  vindictive  notice,  the  following  equally 
mean,  but  adulatory  paragraph  from  the  same  paper,  of  September  :  — 

"The  Beauties  of  Washington  Irving.  1  vol.  18mo.  Phil.  Carey,  Lea,  & 
Blanchakd.  —  What  sad  havoc  does  a  bookseller's  title  make,  sometimes  with  the 
modesty  of  an  author.  Here,  from  the  stern  necessity  of  comph/ing  with  the  requi- 
sitions of  the  law  of  copyright,  on  the  one  side  —  and  of  acquiescing,  on  the  other, 
in  the  bookseller's  fancy,  we  have  our  diffident  countryman,  actually  taking  out  in  his 
own  name,  a  copyright  for  his  own  '  beauties.'  " 


a  similar  case  of  Rubeta,  would  the  independent  editor  have  dared  to  show  it 
towards  a  lady  in  his  own  country  who  was  properly  protected. 

*  "  Where  the  word  of  a  king  is,  there  is  power :  and  who  may  say  unto  him. 
What  doest  thou  ?"     Eccles.  Chap.  viii.  v.  4.         *  * 

t  Even  with  respect  to  Mr.  Cooper,  Petronius  cannot  be  consistent.  Com- 
pare, with  the  above  notice,  the  following  from  the  N.  Y.  American  for  June  20th, 
1838  :— 

"  [Extracts  from  Mr.  Cooper^s  new  JVorK.] 

"We  indulge  a  laudable  curiosity,  by  giving  some  extracts  IVom  Mr.  Cooper's  new 
book,  'Homeward  Bound.'  Not  kaiin^  as  yet  read  the  whole,  we  are  not  properly  qual- 
ified to  express  an  opinion  as  to  the  merits  ol'  the  work,  altliough  we  hazard  little  in  say- 
ing, that,  being  in  his  'element,'  Mr.  Cooper  cannot  have  failed  to  write  an  interesting 
work."         *  * 

X  "  Such  is  the  power  of  reputation  justly  acquired,  that  its  blaze  drives  away  the 
eye  from  nice  examination."    Johnson.     (Life  oy'MiLTON.) 

This  remark,  which  were  more  philosophically  correct,  had  the  qualifying  ad- 
verb been  omitted,  applies,  unaltered,  to  Washington  Irving.  A  writer  in  the 
A'^.  American  Revieir,  quoting  Johnson's  elegant  encomium  of  Goldsmith,  applies 
it  to  Mr.  Irving  with  addition.  Did  he  forget  that  Goldsmith  was  no  mean  hand 
in  what  Mr.  Irving  has  never  tried,  and  would  most  probably  fail  in  ?  Did  he  forget, 
besides  his  poetry,  that  Goldsmith  is  the  author  of  two  of  the  best  of  English 
comedies  ?  Before  venturing  to  criticize,  one  should  learn  to  discriminate. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  349 

Yet,  who  dares  say  Petronius  is  unjust  ? 
Are  not  his  own  words  worthy  of  all  trust  ? 

In  the  N.  Y.  American  of  Sept.  16,  1837,  wc  have  a  long  and  unfa- 
vorable review  of  Mr.  Cooper's  Enj^land ;  at  the  close  of  which  occur 
these  passages :  — 

"  Of  the  American  newspaper  press,  it  is  no  news  to  say,  Mr.  C.  thinks  very 
contemptuously."     [//(>(C  illce  lacnjmcs .'] 

"  For  trade  and  traders  Mr.  C.  has,  and  upon  all  occasions  expresses,  a  degree  of 
contempt,  that  might  recommend  him  to  favor  even  in  Devonshire  or  Burlington 
House.     One  little,  but  pretty  comprehensive,  sentence  we  quote  : 

"  •  I  have  seen  abundant  proof  of  a  disposition  in  the  trading  part  of  our  community  abroad 
to  combine  and  conspire  to  attajn  their  ends,  without  regard  to  truth,  principles,  or  jus- 
tice.'    Vol.  11.  p.  257." 

(This  was  quoted,  and  the  remarks  made,  in  order  to  set  the  mer- 
chants of  New  York,  that  is,  nearly  all  the  city,  against  their  once 
favorite  author.) 

"  And  here  we  take  leave  of  the  American  Gleaner,  not  without  regret  that  i)-7tth 
compels  us  to  speak  of  him  as  we  do,  but  willi  the  conviction  that  he  lives  in  an  atmos- 
phere of  which  no  ctnsnres  from  the  press  can  at  all  disturb  the  serenity." 

(The  latter  part  of  the  sentence  is  a  sufficient  evidence  of  the  sincerity 
of  the  first.) 

Lastly,  to  come  down  to  our  own  day,  in  his  paper  of  May  9th,  1838, 
this  Christian  editor  takes  an  opportunity,  when  telling  the  story  of  the 
burning  of  Capt.  Marryatt's  books  by  the  rabble  at  Lewiston,  to 
add,  that, 

"The  village  of  Cooperstown  once  witnessed  a  similar  act  of  revenge  for  some 
supposed  insult  by  a  distinguished  literary  character." 

And,  July  12th,  1838,  we  have  him  quoting  an  anonymous  allegation 
against  Mr.  Cooper,  the  which  charged  the  latter  with  a  shameful  asser- 
tion in  regard  to  Sir  Walter  Scott  ;  thus  helping  to  defame  the  illus- 
trious dead,  for  the  sake  of  maligning  Mr.  Cooper,  and  of  bringing  him 
into  ill  odor  with  his  countrymen. 

The  first  of  American  novelists  may  continue  to  despise  the  petty 
malice  of  these  miserable  wasps,  who  give  but  a  slight  uneasiness, 
while  they  expose  their  own  bodies  to  destruction.  "  People,"  says  tlie 
admirable  Miss  Edgeworth,  "  usually  revenge  themselves  for  having 
admired  too  much,  by  afterwards  despising  and  depreciating  without 
mercy."  *  "  And  we  read,"  says  Anthony  Ascham,  "  of  those  who  a 
long  time  ador'd  and  kist  a  Goddesse  fastened  to  an  Oake  in  a  Grove ; 
but  when  that  Tree  was  ready  to  fall,  no  one  would  come  within  the 

*  Absentee.  *  * 


350  THE    VISION   OF   IIUBETA. 

Hark,  how  he  prates  of  candor !  with  such  zeal 

As  't  were  a  superfluity  to  feel.  925 

shadow  of  her  statue."*  Imagining  that  Mr.  Cooper's  reputation  as 
an  author  is  on  the  decline,  (which  it  certainly  is  not  with  the  judicious 
fe^v,)  these  honest  journalists  seize  on  the  occasion  to  vent  the  spleen 
they  have  been  gathering  for  years,  and  the  same  men  who  formerly 
licked  the  feet  of  their  idol  make  up,  in  their  own  conceit,  for  this  base 
humiliation,  by  treating  it  with  every  indignity.  It  is  not  to  be  forgot- 
ten, that  these  very  persons  were  eager  to  expose  to  the  Avorld  what  they 
had  heard  was  the  falling  off  in  Sir  Walter  Scott's  latter  perform- 
ances. So  buzzards,  from  their  feeble  vision,  welcome  the  setting  of  the 
sun. 

To  return  to  the  N.  Y.  American,  its  petty  malice  was  displayed  at 
the  commencement  of  its  course,  Avhen  it  came  out  twice  a  week,  small  in 
size,  but  with  a  busy  drone,  and  buzzed  about  the  ears  of  the  illustrious 
Clintox.  We  thought  it,  then,  the  illadvisedness  incidental  to  the  youth 
of  those  who  conducted  it,  but  we  have  lived  to  see  the  same  perse- 
vering malignity  in  the  matured  horsefly,  and  Mr.  Cooper  but  takes  the 
place  of  De  Witt  Clinton.  On  the  22d  of  September,  1819,  thus 
wrote  the  American  : 

"  This  great  body  will  no  longer  be  misled  by  a  name,  still  less  by  dishonored 
outcasts,  and  least  of  all  by  him,  the  libeller  of  their  fair  and  honorable  name  :  the 
profligate  politician,  who,  after  having  denounced  them  collectively  with  all  the 
bitterness  of  persecuting  zeal,  affected  subsequently  to  become  a  convert  to  their 
principles,  and  was  in  reality  a  suitor  for  their  favors;  and  who  hy  his  contami7iating 
union,  has  indeed  in  part  made  good  the  evil  he  had  spoken  of  them  —  by  the  am- 
bitious, the  unprincipled,  and  aspiring  Clinton." 

Seventeen  years  had  passed  since  then  ;  Clinton  lay  in  his  grave ; 
but  the  rancor  of  the  American  was  still  living  ;  and  when  that  intelligent 
and  amiable  divine,  the  Rev,  Mr.  Eastburn,  of  New  York,  gave  to  the 
memory  of  the  departed  statesman  the  honors  which  were  due  to  it,  a 
correspondent  of  the  American's  having  endeavoured  to  snatch  the  laurel 
from  the  brow  which  properly  wore  it,  and  clap  it  on  another  bust,  Pe- 
TRONius,  glad  of  the  occasion,  "cheerfully  gives  place  to  the  communi- 
cation," (we  believe  him,)  "  and  renders  unto  Csesar  the  things  which 
are  Cffisar's."  f     However,  Mr.  Eastburn  publicly  vindicated  the  claim 


'    *  Discourse  on  Government.  Lend.  1G48.  p.  4.         *  * 

t  The  communication  was  signed  Justice,  and  appeared  in  the  N.  Y.  Am.  of  April 
21st,  1837.  The  editor's  appendix  was  as  follows  :  "  We  cheerfully  give  place  to  the 
above  communication,  rendering  unto  Caesar  the  things  which  are  Ceesar's  !  "  Has 
the  reader  ever  seen  Joseph  Hurface  ? 


CANTO   FOURTH.  351 

So  ladies,  crack'd  of  virtue,  cry  out  Jade, 
And  rail  at  hussies  who  are  such  by  trade. 
Candor?     What  strumpet  can  be  more  sincere  ? 
What  damm'd-up  dike  his  current  rolls  more  clear? 

of  Cli-\to.\,  and  the  impartial  man,  who  sought  to  clip  the  monuments 
of  the  dead,  drew  in  his  arm. 

But  he  who,  for  party  purposes,  could  take  the  pains  to  select  from 
another  journal,  and  publish  in  his  own,  an  infamous  story  of  a  duel 
fought  by  Gen.  Jackson,  and  which  certainly,  as  a  deed  long  since 
committed,  common  decency,  and  respect  for  the  honor  of  his  country, 
should  not  have  permitted  him  to  impute  to  one  so  recently  its  chief 
magistrate,  —  a  story  which  contained  this  particular,  put,  for  emphasis, 
in  italic  type,  that  the  ex-president  wrote  to  a  friend  respecting  the  ca- 
tastrophe in  these  words:  "  1  left  the  d — d  rascal  weltering  in  his  blood;" 
though  Petronios,  ignorant  as  he  is,  knows  as  well  as  I  do,  that  no  man 
in  his  senses  would  have  dared  to  use  such  language,  because  there  is 
no  man,  and  especially  no  public  man,  however  wicked,  who  will  affect 
a  brutality  which  he  knows  must  disgust  his  fellows,  and  fill  them  with 
abhorrence  for  himself,  —  I  say,  he  who,  for  party-purposes,  would  lend 
his  aid  to  spread  abroad  such  an  anecdote,  and  revive  the  recollection  of 
such  an  occurrence,  such  a  man,  it  is  not  to  be  expected,  would  hesitate 
to  avail  himself  of  every  occasion  to  injure  the  fair  name  of  an  author 
whose  greatness  he  envies,  and  whose  contempt  he  feels  with  peculiar 
sensibility  because  he  is  conscious  that  it  is  deserved. 

921.  — as  thunders  at  it  now,']  The  critical  Jupiter  is  still  keeping 
the  literary  atmosphere  in  commotion.  In  the  N.  Y.  American  of  August 
18th,  1838,  "Homeward  Bound  "  causes  an  assistant  of  Petronius's, 
under  the  signature  of  R.,  to  make  very  wry  faces.  Poor  fellow !  he 
cannot  help  betraying  the  source  of  his  anguish.  Hear  him.  "  Mr. 
Dodge,  the  travelling  editor  of  the  active  Inquirer,  is  an  extravagant 
fiction  —  certainly  the  original  can  exist  nowhere  but  in  Mr.  Cooper's 
brain,  teeming  as  it  docs  with  all  sorts  of  horrid  visions  of  American 
editors."  I  suppose  this  brain,  which  teems  with  visions,  gave  birth  to 
some  satirical  delineation  of  a  blackguard,  or  a  rogue,  or  both  united, 
and  called  the  dirty  compound, yourna/is/.  No  one,  of  course,  could  be 
delivered  of  such  a  monster  who  was  not  pregnant  with  "  inveterate 
prejudices  against  his  native  land."         *  * 

924.  Hark,  how  he  prates  of  candor  !  with  such  zeal,  etc.]  The  N.  Y. 
American,  as  everybody  knows  who  reads  it,  and  wishes  it  were  silent 
on  this  point,  is  day  after  day  ringing  fresh  changes  on  the  same  tune 


352  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

To  hear  him  praise  the  pure  and  manly  breast,       930 
You  'd  think  he  were  Jove's  bastard,  at  the  least; 
But  put  aside  the  mask,  and  look  within, 
'T  is  Tmolus'  widow  in  the  lion's  skin. 
Much  did  he  laud  Theresa'^s  tragic  lay, 


of  its  own  magnanimity.      Verbum  sap. :  It  would  puzzle  the  Devil  him- 
self to  extract  bowels  from  a  drum, 

930.  To  hear  him  praise  the  pure  and  manly  breast,]  The  regular 
Bubjects  of  our  newsman's  daily  sermons,  are  "  manliness,"  "  straight- 
forwardness," "  highmindedness,"  &c. ;  and  the  corresponding  adjec- 
tives, "  manly,"  "  straightforward,"  "  highininded,"  &.C.,  form  his  favorite 
cant-phrases.  We  shall  convince  the  reader  that  the  preacher  is  not 
merely  a  finger-board  by  a  roadside. 

Ad  populum  phaleras  :  ego  te  intus,  et  incute,  novi.* 

9:11.  — Joke's  bastard — ]     Hercules.         ** 

935.  — Tmolus'  xuidow — ]  Omphale.  By  the  by,  what  her  play- 
mate says  in  tlie  Frogs,  when  Bacchus  assumes  his  lion-skin,  will  ap- 
ply most  literally  to  the  very  similar  masquerading  commemorated  by 
our  poet : — 

Oil  TCI,  fca  riiv  Aw^xT^a,  '^uvafini  fin  yi^aV' 
Ka/  Tsi  iiixytii  y   IfiauTcv.      'AXX'  o/iu;   yi}~u, 

ov^  d'lOi  T    il/Ji    aTcvoStjcini  Toil  ytXuii, 

'0jft/>  XiotTtiv  i-xi  x^oxtoru  xiifjiivftv. 

Aristoph.  Ran.    I'-i,  43,  45,  43.         * 

934.  Much  did  he  laud  Theresa's  tragic  la]/,] 

"  Poems,  Translated  and  Original  ;  by  Mrs.  E.  F.  Ellkt  —  1  vol.  Phila- 
delphia, Key  <fe  BiDDLE.  —  There  is  both  genius  and  knmvledge,  two  widely  difler- 
cnt  things  —  in  Mrs.  Ellet's  poems  —  and  this  little  volume  therefore  may  be  safely 
welcomed,  as  an  added  honor  to  our  Hleratnre,  and  as  entitling  its  young  authoress, 
to  take  her  station  among  those  who  have  successfully  vindicated  woman's  claim  to 
enliglUen,  improx'e,  and  deliglit  /he  vor/d. 

"  Of  the  Poems  here  embodied,  many  have  heretofore  appeared  in  different  period- 
icals ;  others  are  now  first  given  to  the  light.  Amung  these  is  the  tragedy  of  Theresa 
Conlarini,  which  Miss  Philips  performed  so  admirably  at  tlie  Park,  last  spring. — 
It  has,  we  think,  great  inerit,  as  a  tragedy  —  though  perhaps  wanting  for  complete 
success,  or  rather  popularity,  on  the  stage,  more  acquaintance  vitli  theatrical  details, 
than  could  be  possessed  by  the  wi-iter  [  ! !  ]. 

*  Pr.Rs.  iii.  30.        *  * 


CANTO   FOURTH.  353 

Much  too  John  Bailey's  buskins  of  a  day,  935 


"  We  select  a  short  Poem,  which  is  quite  in  the  style  of  Mrs.  Ihmans. 

"  '  Death. 
"  '  Ye  may  twine  young  (lowers  round  the  sunny  brow 

Ye  deck  for  the  festal  day,  — 
But  mine  is  the  shadow  that  xuaves  o'er  them  now, 

And  Iheir  beauty  has  witliered  away. 
Ye  may  gather  bright  gems  for  glory's  shrine, 

Afar,  from  their  cavern  home  — 
Ye  may  gather  the  gems  —  but  their  pride  is  mine, 

They  will  lis:ht  the  dark  cold  tomb. 
Thy  [The  ?]  warrior's  heart  heals  high  and  proud, 

I  have  laid  my  cold  hand  on  him ; 
And  the  stately  form  hath  before  me  bowed, 

And  the  Hashing  eye  is  dim. 
I  have  trod  the  banquet  room  alone  — 

And  the  crowded  halls  of  mirth, 
And  the  low  deep  wail  of  the  stricken  one 

Went  up  from  the  festal  hearth. 
I  have  stood  by  the  pillared  domes  of  old, 

And  breathed  on  each  classic  shrine  — 
And  desolation  gray  and  cold 

Now  marks  the  ruins  mine. 
I  have  met  young  Genius,  and  breathed  on  the  brow 

That  bore  his  mystic  trace  — 
And  the  cheek  where  passion  was  wont  to  glow 

Is  wrapt  in  my  dark  embrace. 
They  tell  of  a  land  where  no  blight  can  fall. 

Where  my  ruthless  reign  is  o'er  — 
Where  the  ghastly  shroud,  and  the  shadowy  pall 

Shall  wither  the  soul  no  more. 
They  say  there  's  a  home  in  yon  blue  sphere, 

A  region  of  life  ilivine  : 
But  I  reck  not  —  since  all  that  is  lovely  here. 

The  beauty  of  earth  —  is  mine.'  " 

[N.  Y.  Am.     ber  28th,  1835.] 

Truly,  if  Death  were  to  talk,  I  do  think  ho  would  talk  very  much  in  this 
■tvay.  This,  the  writer  of  a  tragedy  !  that  species  of  poem  which  Aris- 
totle puts  at  the  head  of  all  efforts  of  genius  ! 

Now  to  show  the  other  side  of  the  picture.  It  is  to  be  expected,  that 
a  man,  who  can  fancy  excellence  where  it  does  not  exist,  M-ill  be  blind 
to  merit  though  it  stare  him  in  the  face.  Accordingly,  we  find  this  dis- 
cerning editor  inserting  the  following  piece  (which  was  introduced,  in 
his  paper,  as  written  by  a  lady  for  a  charity  at  "  The  Institution  of  the 
Blind,")  simply  as  a.  J)<f erred  .']rlicle!  !  (Jan.  1837.)  There  is  nothing 
censurable  in  this  piece  but  the  bad  taste  of  the  four  first  lines  (which 
are  in  the  style  of  the  day,  —  particularly  marked  in  the  cant,  earth- 
stains),  and  the  prose  of  the  last  line,  with  the  Mrs.  Hemansishness  of  the 
pronoun  ?/e  for  ;/ow,  and  the  inadvertence,  just  before,  of  speaking  of  the 
45 


354  THE   VISION   OF  RUBETA. 

Yet  had  no  word  of  grace  for  Willis'  play ; 

"fragrance  of  the  south,"  though  the  want  of  the  sense  of  smell  is  not 
necessarily  numbered  among  a  blind  man's  deprivations :  all  the  rest 
would  not  disgrace  ike  muse  q/ Armstrong. 

"  To  Mr. 

"  Thou  dwellest  amid  the  throng 

Of  the  world's  votaries,  but  thy  spirit  wears 

So  bright  an  impress  of  its  purer  birth 

That  earth-stains  rest  not  on  it ;  —  thou  art  one 

Whom  fortune  has  encumbered  with  her  gifts, 

For  thou  hast  much  to  thee  superfluous, 

Much  that  doth  make  thee  careful  when  thine  heart 

Might  else  be  light  and  cheerful.     Throw  aside 

This  weight  of  vanity  ;  the  poor  man's  prayer 

Will  bring  a  richer  blessing  on  thy  head 

Than  hoarded  gold  can  purchase.    Look  around  —   , 

How  jiianij  thousand  shapes  doth  misery  wear 

In  this  strange  world  of  ours  :  some  pine  in  want, 

Seeking  in  vain  from  charity's  cold  hand 

The  food  that  nature  claims  ;  —  som£  are  tossed 

For  many  a  weary  7nonth  on  the  hard  couch, 

The  best  that  penury  can  yield  disease. 

There  be  some  too  whose  ears  have  never  drunk 

The  blessed  sounds  of  nature/  and  whose  lips 

Have  never  framed  a  language  to  express 

The  full  heart's  overflow  of  joy  or  woe. 

And  some  —  not  least  in  suffering  —  are  debarred 

Tlie  glorious  light  of  Heaven.    Oh  .'  think  how  dark 

This  world  must  seem  to  him  ivhose  night  and  day 

Are  marked  but  by  the  drowsy,  ticking  clock, 

Or  nature's  weariness,  —  to  whom  the  spring 

Brings  no  green  landscape,  and  whose  summer  walks 

Can  never  wear  the  bright  enamelling 

Of  buds  and  flowers  that  bless  your  eager  sight. 

Think  what  a  world  of  bliss  must  be  shut  out 

From  him  whose  sightless  eye-balls  turn  in  vain 

To  the  warm  sunbeam,  or  the  fragrant  south 

Which  sends  its  perfumed  welcome  on  the  breeze. 

Oh !  when  to  this  sad  lot  the  bitter  sting 

Of  poverty  is  added,  who  can  close 

His  heart  to  charity's  appeal  for  aid  ? 

'  Freely  ye  have  received,  then  freely  give.'  " 

Let  me  observe  here,  as  I  have  in  the  case  of  another  eulogium,  let  me 
observe  impressively,!  say,  and  I  expect  no  man  to  doubt  me,  that  I 
know  nothing  of  the  piece,  or  of  the  writer,  but  what  I  see  here.  I  am  not 
like  the  editor  of  the  American :  those  I  praise  are  not  my  friends,  nor 
are  those  my  foes  whom  I  censure.    I  love  no  man  whom  I  have  com- 


CANTO  FOURTH.  356 

Not  for  Bianca!  though  her  baldest  line 
Were,  for  such  brows,  a  wreath  almost  divine. 


mended  in  this  poem,  and,  as  I  love  none,  so  is  there  nove  who  figures  in 
this  poem  whom  I  hate.  I  do,  indeed,  most  heartily  despise  tlie  pert  and 
livthj  dunce,  Rubeta,  that  weightless  weathercock,  Petronius,  and 
that  dirty  ditch,  Margites  ;  but  even  to  these  I  bear  no  malice.  I  should 
cheerfully  see  the  two  first  prosper,  to  their  heart  and  pocket's  content, 
so  it  were  in  any  other  trade  tiian  that  they  follow,  —  and  even  in  that, 
if  one  of  them  would  deal  no  more  in  spurious  literatin-e  and  outside-sam- 
ples  of  religion,  and  the  other  would  give  up  the  reviewing  part  of  his 
establishment,  take  a  better  clerk,  and  no  longer  advertise  his  own  gen- 
erosity,—  and  I  should  rejoice  to  hear  that  the  last  had  drained  off  all 
his  stagnant  water,  and  was  determined  to  do  nothing  in  future  but  sit 
before  a  mirror,  and  spit  on  his  own  reflection.  So  much  for  ourself.  It 
IS  SINCERE  ;  and,  without  a  wish  to  play  the  bully,  we  caution  meddlers 
to  look  to  their  own  affairs,  nor,  when  the  bow  is  drawn,  to  come  in  the 
way  of  the  shaft.* 

935.  JoBif  Bailet''s  buskins  of  a  daij,]  There  was  a  gentleman,  a 
merchant,  among  the  friends  of  Petronius,  who,  according  to  the  Man- 
hattanese  Aristotle,  was  to  electrify  all  the  cotton-bags  in  Pearl-street 
by  the  success  of  his  muse.  We  forget  the  name  of  the  piece,  but  re- 
member reading  some  dozens  of  verses  descriptive  of  a  chariot-race  at 
Rome,  the  which  Petronius  had  selected  to  prove  his  judgment,  but 
which  proved,  very  fairly,  what  was  afterwards  put  beyond  a  doubt  by 
the  immediate  damnation  of  the  piece  on  its  representation,  and  its  sub- 
sequent oblivion  even  in  the  newspapers. 

936.  Yet  had  no  ivord  of  grace  for  Willis'  play  ;  —  JVot  for  Bianca! 
though  —  etc.]  A  day  or  two  after  the  first  performance  oi  Bianca  Vis- 
conti,  there  appeared  in  the  N.  Y.  American  a  flippant  communication, 
from  the  pen  of  one  of  the  editors'  boyish  correspondents,  wherein  the 
tragedy  was  denied  all  merit,  even  that  of  displaying  tolerable  versifica- 
tion. As  Petronius,  who,  for  reasons  best  known  to  himself,  is  no 
friend  of  Mr.  Willis's,  permitted,  at  the  time,  the  piece  to  pass  without 
comment,  nor  subsequently  corrected  its  censure,  it  is  presumed  that  it 
had  his  sanction;  consequently  that  Mr.  Willis  is,  in  his  estimation, 
incapable  of  attaining  even  common  success,  where  Mrs.  Ellet  and 
Mr.  Bailey  were  admitted  to  excel.  The  copy -right  of  Bianca  is  said 
to  belong  to  Miss  Clifton.     Hence  this  tragedy  has  never  been  pub- 

*  The  bow  is  bent,  and  drawn.     Make  from  the  shaft ! 

Lear.    A.  i.  Sc.  1.         ** 


356  THE    VISION   OF    RUBETA. 

What  matters  it  ?  tliat  praise  the  bard  may  spare 

lished,  and,  as  wc  liavc  not  witnessed  its  performance,  we  can  only 
judge  of  such  selections  from  its  scenes  as  have  appeared  in  the  news- 
papers. To  the  good  taste,  and  the  justice  of  Mr.  Locke,  of  the  A'eiw 
Era  (a  New  York  journal),  we  are  indebted  for  the  only  passages  we 
have  seen  of  Bianca,  and  it  is  from  his  paper  of  Sept.  8th,  1837,  that 
we  extract  the  following  beauties.  Observe,  we  are  not  pronouncing 
upon  Bianca  Visconli  as  a  tragedy ;  as  a  whole,  we  can  know  nothing 
about  it :  we  are  merely  claiming  for  the  passages  which  follow,  such 
merit  as  the  best  poet  in  America  might  be  proud  to  acknowledge,  even 
though  that  same  were  Wm.  Cullen  Bryant. 

#        *        #        «  iiq  must  love  me, 
Or  I  shall  break  my  heart !  I  never  had 
One  other  hope  in  life  !  1  never  link'd 
One  tliought  but  to  tliis  chain  !  I  have  no  blood  — 
No  breath  —  no  being —  separate  from  Sforza  ! 
Nothing  has  any  other  name  !  The  Sun 
Shined  like  his  smile  —  the  lightning  was  his  glory  — 
The  night  his  sleep,  and  the  hush'd  moon  watch'd  o'er  him  ; — 
Stars  writ  his  name  —  his  breath  hung  on  the  flowers  — 
Music  had  no  voice  but  to  say  I  love  him, 
And  life  no  future,  but  his  love  for  me  !" 

A  finer  instance  of  amplification,  and  one  more  natural  to  the  passion 
of  love,  it  would  not  be  easy  to  find  in  any  modern  poet. 

*         *         *         "  Wed  him  to-morrow ! 
So  suddenly  a  wife  !  Will  it  seem  modest. 
With  but  twelve  hours  of  hurried  preparation 
To  come  a  bride  to  church  !  Will  he  remember 
I  was  ten  years  ago  affianced  to  him  ? 
I  have  had  time  to  think  on't !   Oh,  I'll  tell  him  — 
Whe7i  1  dare  speak  I'll  tell  him  — how  I've  loved  him  ! 
And  day  and  night  dreamed  of  him,  and  through  ajl 
The  changing  wars  treasured  the  solemn  troth 
Broke  by  my  father  !  If  he  listens  kindly, 
I  '"11  tell  him  how  1  fed  my  eyes  upon  him 
In  Venice  at  his  triumph  —  when  he  walked 
Like  a  descended  god  beside  the  Doge 
Who  thanked  him  for  his  victories,  and  the  people 
Shouted  out,  '  Sforza !  Live  the  gallant  Sforza  !' 
/  loas  a  child  then  —  but  I  felt  my  heart 
Grow,  in  one  hour,  to  icoman !  " 

We  will  not  quarrel  with  the  expression  "  to  woman"  (for  to  tvovian- 
hood,)  because  of  the  sentiment,  which  would  redeem  a  greater  solecism, 
"  Love  conceives 
No  paradise  but  such  as  Eden  was  — 
With  two  hearts  beating  in  it." 


CANTO   FOURTH.  357 

Whereof  the  grossest  fool  still  gets  the  biggest  share.  940 


There  is  a  pretty  image  for  you  !  gracefully  expressed,  and,  that  with- 
out which  its  gracefulness  were  nothing,  perfectly  just. —  As  a  happy 
expression  of  a  feeling  well  known  and  often  described,  belonging  to 
the  full  bliss  of  an  affection  not  yet  wearied  by  disappointment,  nor 
cloyed  by  fruition,  we  add  the  following  lines,  which  immediately  suc- 
ceed the  above  in  the  play  :  — 

"Oh,  I '11  build 

A  home  upon  some  green  and  flowery  isle 

In  the  lone  lakes,  where  we  will  use  our  empire 

Only  to  keep  away  the  gazing  world. 

The  purple  mountains,  and  the  glassy  waters 

Shall  make  a  hush'd  pavilion  with  the  sky, 

And  we  two  in  its  midst  will  live  alone, 

Counting  the  hours  by  stars  and  waking  birds, 

And  jealous  but  of  sleep  !" 
Now  take  this  scene  of  another  sort.      "  Sarpellione,"  (we  borrow 
the  words  of  Mr.  Locke), 

"  The  wily  Sarpellione,  having  been  foiled  in  his  attempt  to  withdraw  Sforza  from 
the  Milanese  alliance,  resolves  on  his  destruction.  To  this  end,  he  poisons  the  ear 
of  Brunorio,  Sforza's  lieutenant,  and  wins  him  over  to  the  service  of  Alphonso,  his 
master,  and  persuades  him  to  murder  Sforza.  Bianca,  who  has  been  informed  by 
Sarpellione  of  the  existence  of  her  brother,  who  attends  her  in  the  capacity  of  page, 
(Giulio,)  overhears  the  plot,  and  forms  the  horrid  design  of  substituting  Giulio  in  the 
place  of  her  husband,  for  the  double  purpose  of  saving  his  life  and  of  securing  to 
herself,  and  thence  to  Sforza,  the  succession  of  the  crown,  under  the  impression, 
that,  by  sacrificing  to  his  ambition,  she  will  gain  his  love." 

#  *  * 

"  Page.  Sforza  has  gone  in  — 

May  I  sleep  then,  sweet  Lady,  in  his  place  ? 

Bi.  —  No  —  boy  !  thou  shall  not ! 

Page.  Then  will  you  ? 

Bi.  Oh  God! 

I  would  I  could  !  and  have  no  waking  after  ! 
Come  hither  Giulio  !  nay  —  nay  —  stop  not  there  ! 
Come  on  a  little,  and  I  '11  make  thy  pillow 
Softer  than  ever  mine  will  be  again  ! 
Tell  me  you  love  me  ere  you  go  to  sleep ! 

Page.  —  With  all  my  soul,  dear  mistress  ! 

[Drops  asleep] 

Bi.  Now  he  sleeps  ! 

This  mantle  for  his  pall  —  but  stay  —  his  shape 
Looks  not  like  Sforza  under  it.     Fairjlou-ers 

[Heaps  them  at  his  feet,  and  spreads  his  mantle  over  him] 
Your  innocence  to  his  !  E-xhale  together. 
Pure  spirit  and  sweet  fragrance  !     So  —  one  kiss  I 


358  THE   VISION   or   RUBETA. 

Yet,  had  Visconti  sprung  of  English  brains, 


Ginlio  !  my  brother  !  who  comes  there  ?  wake  Giulio! 
Or  thou  'It  be  murdered .'  nay —  'twas  bat  the  wind  ! 

[Withdraws  on  tiptoe  and  crouches  behind  a  tree.] 
I  will  kneel  here  and  pray  ! 

[Brunorio  creeps  in,  followed  by  Sarpellione  at  a  distance.] 
Sarp.  Hark ! 

Strike  well  and  fear  not!  See — he  sleeps. 

Si.  [Springing  forward  as  he  strikes.  ]   Giulio  .' 
Giulio  !  aioake  ! 
Ah  God! 

[She  drops  on  the  body,  the  murderer  escapes,  and 
Sforza  enters.]" 

That  simple  "  Ah  God !  ",  in  the  place  where  it  occurs,  is  actually- 
superb. 

Two  other  instances  we  have  before  us  of  the  same  exquisite  tact. 
They  are  both  found  at  the  conclusion  of  the  piece.  The  first  is  this, 
where  Bianca  has  just  confessed  the  murder:  — 

"  Now  you  know  all !  I  'm  glad  it  is  not  I ! 
I  would  not  do  such  murders  to  be  loved ! 
No  !  if  you  were  an  angel !" 
The  second,  wjiere  Bianca  dies  :  — 

"  I  will  sleep  here  with  Giulio 
Till  the  bell  tolls  — 

[Sinks,  and  Sforza  bends  over  her.     The  scene  closes.]" 
I  know  no  more  affecting  conclusion  in  any  tragedy ;  few,  in  English 
tragedy,  in  so  good  taste. 

We  have  given  already  a  very  fair  portion  of  Bianca ;  but  we  cannot 
resist  adding  one  other  passage,  which  Mr.  Locke's  fine  taste,  and  un- 
envious  temper,  have  enabled  us  to  lay  before  the  reader,  to  the  latter's 
enjoyment,  as  well  as  to  the  honor  of  Mr.  Willis,  and  the  disgrace 
of  Petronius. 

"  If  the  rose 
Were  born  a  lily,  and  by  force  of  heart 
And  eagerness  for  light,  grew  tall  and  fair, 
'T  were  a  true  type  of  the  first  fiery  soul 
That  makes  a  low  name  honorable  —  They 
Who  take  it  by  inheritance  alone  — 
Adding  no  brightness  to  it  —  are  like  stars 
Seen  in  the  ocean,  that  were  never  there 
But /or  the  bright  originals  in  Heaven  .' 

Sarp.  —  [Sneeringly.]  Rest  to  the  gallant  soul  of  the  first  Sforza  ! 

Bi.  —  Amen  !  but  triple  glory  to  the  second  ! 
I  have  a  brief  tale  for  thine  ear,  Ambassador  ! 

Sarp.  —  I  listen,  Lady  ! 


CANTO   FOURTH.  359 


And  English  pride  watch'd  o'er  its  parent's  pains, 
Petronius'  slang  had  cramm'd  him  to  disgust, 
And  silenc'd  Locke,  who  durst  be  only  just. 


Bi.  AI ark  the  moral,  Sir  ! 

An  eagle  once  from  the  Euganean  hills 

Soared  bravely  to  the  sky.   [To  Si'oiizA.]     (Wilt  please  my  lord 
List  to  my  story  '?)     In  his  giddy  track 
Scarce  marked  by  them  who  gazed  upon  the  first, 
Followed  a  new-fledged  eaglet,  fast  and  well. 
Upward  they  sped,  and  all  eyes  on  their  flight 
Gazed  with  admiring  awe,  when,  suddenly, 
The  parent  bird,  struck  by  a  thunderbolt, 
Dropp'd  lifeless  through  the  air.     The  eaglet  paused, 
And  hung  upon  his  wings ;  and  as  his  sire 
Plashed  in  the  far  down  wave,  men  looked  to  see  him 
Flee  to  his  nest  affrighted  ! 

Sf.  —  [With  great  interest.]     Did  he  so  ? 

Bi.  —  My  noble  lord  -^  he  had  a  monarch's  heart ! 
He  wheeled  a  moment  in  mid  air,  and  shook 
Proudly  his  royal  wings,  and  then  right  on, 
With  crest  uplifted  and  unwavering  flight, 
Sped  to  the  sUn's  eye,  straight  and  gloriously. 

Page.  —  Lady  —  is  that  true  ? 

Bi.  Ay!  men  call  those  eagles 

Sforza  the  First  and  Second  !" 

941,  943.  Yet  had  Visconti  sprung  of  English  brains,  —  ^nd  English 
pride  ivatcli'd  o'er  its  parent's  paitis,]  As  in  the  case  of /o7i,  mentioned 
below.         *  * 

943.  Petxonius'  slang  had  cramm'd  him  to  disgust,]  This  independent 
newsman  is  completely  a  slave  to  English  opinion,  and  does  his  utmost 
to  bring  others  into  the  same  subjection ;  yet,  as  might  be  supposed,  no 
man  makes  louder  pretensions  to  freedom  from  such  prejudices.  Let  us 
give  a  recent  example  of  his  reverence  for  British  authorities. 

''  Notwithstanding  a  reference  to  the  opinions  of  our  transatlantic  contemporaries 
on  subjects  of  literary  criticism  is  considered  heterodox,  and  even  treasonable,  we 
feel  it  a  duty  to  advert  to  the  reception  of  Mr.  Prescott's  History  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella,  among  European  literati."  N.  Y.  Am.  March  24th,  1838. 
i  Would  the  reader  ever  guess  who  are  these  "  European  literati "  ? 
He  goes  on  to  say  :  "  The  London  Spectator,  [  !  !  ]  in  an  article,  e/c." 
It  is  fortunate  for  Mr.  Prescott  that  the  merits  of  his  composition  are 
not  to  be  decided  by  the  dicta  of  a  newspaper,  or  two  such  encomiasts 
were  enough  to  damn  it.  * 

*  As  an  instance  of  the  facility  with  which  labor  is  performed  in  the  present  days 


360  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

As  Straight  before  us,  on  the  verge  of  sky,  945 

We  see  no  stars,  but  needs  must  look  on  high, 
So  common  minds,  agape  to  vulgar  fame, 
Find  merit  only  in  exalted  name. 
Headstrong  and  rash  although  Petronius  be, 
No  ass  the  footpath  better  knows  than  he.  950 

This  truth  let  Bulwer's  Gothic  farce  declare. 


944.  Locke,  xvho  durst  be  onh/jusl.]  The  editor  of  the  JVeio  Era,  who, 
as  the  reader  has  seen,  took  the  trouble  to  examine  a  poem  which  the 
equitable,  and  discriminating  Petroinius  was  contented  to  leave  to  the 
abuse  of  his  correspondents. 

950.  JVo  ass  the  footpath  better  knows  than  /te.]  It  is  a  propensity  of 
asses  to  keep  in  the  trodden  path  at  the  side  of  a  road,  and  never  take 
the  crown  of  the  highway.  See  the  N.  Y.  American  on  popular  repu- 
tations.        *  * 

951.  This  truth  let  Bulwers  Gothic  farce  declare,]  Petronius  found 
Mr.  Bulwer's  play,  like  Mrs.  Ellet's,  to  contain  in  abundance  that 
poetry  which  Bianca  was  altogether  deficient  in. 

lb.  —  BuLWERS  Gothic  farce  — ]  "  The  Duchess  de  la  Valliere  "  was 
but  wanting  to  the  fame  of  Mr.  Bulwer,  in  order  to  make  a  certain 
couplet  completely  applicable  to  his  writings. 

Thus  all  his  prose  and  verse  are  much  the  saine  : 
This,  prose  on  stilts  ;  that,  poetry  faWn  lame.  * 


of  steaming,  we   present   the  reader  with  the  cream  of  our  newsman-critic's  "  re- 
view "  of  Mr.  Prkscott's  work  : — 

"For  its  herenfler,  from  the  moment  ive  Jimt  looked  into  its  pa^es,  we  had  not  a  mo- 
ment^n  solicitude,  for  vie  felt  that  it  ivould  become  one  of  the  standards  of  history  for  all 
who  read  the  English  lang-uage."        [N.  Y.  Am.  Maij  I9th,  1838-] 

We  know  not  how  it  is.  we,  who  have  scarcely  done  any  thing  else,  all  our  life, 
but  turn  over  the  leaves  of  books,  had  read  completely  throngh  two  of  the  three 
volumes,  and  reflected  not  a  little  on  their  contents,  before  we  came  to  our  present 
conclusion,  that  they  stand  at  the  tip-top  of  American  literature.  What  will  Pe- 
tronius take  for  his  secret? 

*  From  the  Diittciud  (Bk.  i.  189.),  with  a  trifling  necessary  alteration.  There  is 
an  epigram,  which  I  have  seen  somewhere  translated  from  Le  Brun,  that  will 
come  in  very  well  here  : — 

"  III  prose  and  in  metre  will  Ned  still  compose  : 
But  in  writing  he  seems  to  lie  under  a  curse  ; 


CANTO   FOURTH.  361 

Thy  clay  sarcophagus,  frail  La  Vallikre  ! 

Commcncin<T  with  the  third  scene  of  Act  iv.  the  piece  is  respectable, — 
excellent  in  p;irts,  —  though  nowhere  rising,  even  supposing  that  the 
characters  were  suitable,  *  to  that  dignity  and  strength  of  composition 
"which  is  requisite  for  the  serious  drama.  All  the  rest  of  the  play  is  the 
merest  stuff  that  was  ever  put  upon  paper.     It  is  true,  its  author  tells  us 

For  he  constantly  puts  too  much  verse  in  liis  prose, 
And  as  constantly  puts  too  much  prose  in  his  verse." 

*  * 

*  Since  this  note  was  written,  we  have  seen,  in  the  London  Times  for  July  IS, 
1837,  a  translation  (from  the  Jmirnal  des  DebatsJ  of  a  very  unmeasured  rritiqiif  on 
this  play  of  Mr.  Bui.wer's.  Its  nature  may  be  judged  of  by  the  opening  paragraph, 
which  is  as  follows  : — 

"  A  strange  piece,  which  is  neither  comedy,  trajredy,  nor  melodrama,  is  now  acting  in 
London,  wherein  Louis  XIV.  and  France  in  the  17th  century  are  treated  {r.ompromis)  in  the 
most  vulgar  and  farcical  fashion.  It  is  ditTlcult  to  form  an  adequate  idea  of  the  2;ross  absur- 
dity, ignorance  of  men  and  manners,  folly  and  conceit,  coiitriined  in  this  work,  which  some 
people  take  upon  them  to  say  was  eagerly  received  in  England,  for  an  entire  fortnight,  as  a 
c/ief-d^c&uvre.'a)  A  more  grave,  though  at  the  same  time  a  more  innocuous,  insult  to  the 
glory,  and  the  amours  of  the  greatest  monarch  who  has  honored  the  throne,  could  not  have 
been  offered.  The  author  of  this  work,  to  which  it  is  so  difficult  to  assign  a  specific  denom- 
ination, enjoys,  it  is  said,  in  his  own  country,  what  is  termed  a  celebrity.  His  name  is  Mr. 
Bulwer  ;  he  is  a  member  of  the  House  of  Commons,  and  he  has  written  a  great  number  of 
romances,  which  (dealing  with  them  as  leniently  as  possible)  may  possibly  sustain  a  com- 
parison with  the  worst  of  Victor  Ducange's.  For  these  reasons,  we  have  thought  ourselves 
justified  in  honoring  Mr.  Bulwer's  piece  with  a  notice,  as  we  sometimes  do  the  melodrames 
of  the  Ambigu." 

The  third  sentence  lets  us  into  the  secret  of  the  critic's  indignation,  which  is  too 
extravagant  in  its  expressions  for  the  occasion.  Mr.  Bulwer,  though  very,  very  far 
indeed,  from  being  a  great  author,  is  certainly  not  a  little  one  ;  nor,  whatever  his 
mistakes  and  absurdities  as  a  writer,  can  he  be  accused  with  justice  of  gross  ignor- 


(a)  M.  Janon  seems  to  disbelieve  this.  And  he  has  reason.  —  The  World  of  Fashion  says, 
very  precisely  : — 

"  At  its  first  performance  the  play  was  much  hissed.  Some  of  the  scenes  were  extremely 
dull,  and  the  whole  of  the  third  act  was  so  wretchedly  contrived,  and  so  miserably  perform- 
ed, that,  had  the  author  been  anybody  but  Mr.  Bulwer,  the  play  might  then  have  been  ter- 
minated by  the  manifestations  of  the  displeasure  of  the  audience." 

And,  in  another  part  of  the  same  magazine,  we  have  :  — 

"  There  is  no  dramatic  interest  in  the  story  of  La  ValH&re,  there  is  no  moral  that  can  be 
drawn  from  it.  She  was  a  sufferer,  but  she  had  been  guilty,  and  we  cannot  say  that  her  suf- 
ferings were  undeserved.  No  one  can  sympathize  with  her,  and  consequently,  Mr.  Bul- 
wer's play  is  dull  and  heavy  in  the  performance.  There  is  no  particular  merit  in  the  way 
in  which  Mr.  Bulwer  has  treated  the  subject;  there  is  no  originality  in  the  thoughts  which 
he  has  embodied  ;  his  Duchess  is  a  mere  grisette  ;  we  have  seen  such  a  woman  personated 
a  hundred  times  by  Jlrs.  Yates  and  others  ;  and,  in  the  absence  of  any  indications  of  abso- 
lute genius,  some  of  the  scenes  startled  the  morality  of  the  audience.  These  have  since  been 
amended.     The  necessity  for  their  amendment  is  a  proof  of  the  demerits  of  the  production." 

46 


362  THE   VISIOiN   OF   RUBETA. 

And  Talfourd's  florid  bombast  makes  fond  men 

that  "  To  thoughts  and  to  persons  that  belong  to  prose,  belongs  prosaic 
expression."    [Preface  to  the  Play.)     Where  then  was  the  use  of  rneas- 

ance  of  ineii  and  manners.     There  are  however,  in  the  piece,  despite  of  occasional 
injustice,  many  remarks  which  deserve  quoting.    For  example  :  — 

"  Scene  the  third,  the  theatre  represents  '  the  gardens  of  Fontainebleau,  brilliantly  illumi- 
nated with  colored  lamps  ;'  enter  Grammont  and  Lauzun.  Let  me  premise,  that  this  is 
the  same  Lauzun  who  was  the  most  brilliant  cavalier  and  the  greatest  favorite  at  the  Court 
of  Louis  XIV.  ;  that  Grammont  is  the  same  Chevalier  de  Grammont  who  is  the  hero  —  the 
charming  hero  —  of  Hamilton.  Alas  I  alas  !  we  shall  soon  sec  in  what  fashion  Mr.  Bulwer 
has  '  resuscilated  '  them. 

"  In  the  piece  Lauzun  is  a  Marquis  of  the  lowest  degree,  a  miserable  giggler,  without  wit, 
youth,  or  beauty  ;  who  talks  of  nothing  but  his  creditors,  like  one  of  Regnard's  chevaliers. 
Grammont  is  a  sorry  scrub,  who  cracks  jokes  with  Lauzun.  and  has  not  a  word  to  say  to  any- 
body else  :  'Grammont. —  His  Majesty  is  cold  —  Augustus  more  than  Ovid.'  Who  would 
have  e.vpected  Ovid  to  be  lugged  in  with  reference  to  Louis  XIV.  .'  '  Lauzun.  t- He  must 
have  a  mistress.  While  the  King  lives  chaste,  he  cheats  me,  he  robs  me  of  ninety-nine  per 
cent.  The  times  are  changed  —  'Twas  by  the  sword  and  spear  our  fathers  bought  ambition 
—  vulgar  butchers  !  But  now  our  wit's  our  sjiear,  intrigue  our  armour,  the  antechamber  is 
our  field  of  battle,  and  the  best  hero  is  the  cleverest  rogue  !'  Have  we  not  here  two  very 
pretty  young  sprigs  of  high  life  ^  But,  by  Heaven,  the  footmen  of  King  Louis  XIV.,  in  the 
most  retired  room  in  the  chateau,  even  when  in  their  cujis,  would  not  have  dared  to  hold 
such  language  as  is  here  put  into  the  mouth  of  the  Count  de  Lauzun." 

Again  : — 

"  — when  Bragelone  becomes  affected  :  — 

'  I  loved  thee  not,  Louise, 
As  gallants  love ;  thou  wert  this  life's  ideal, 
Breathing  through  earth  the  lovely  and  the  holy. 
And  clothing  poetry  in  human  beauty  ." 

"  Bragelone  ought  surely  to  have  said  to  Mademoiselle  de  la  Valliure  what  he  had  just  be- 
fore said  to  M.  de  Lauzun  :  — 'I  pray  you  grace  for  that  old-fashioned  phrase.'  " 

Several  other  passages  from  the  poem  are  cited,  equally  faulty,  though  not  always 
understood  by  the  French  critic.  We  then  come  in  the  fourth  column  to  this  para- 
graph :— 

"  The  fifth  act  is  quite  worthy  of  the  four  preceding  ones  :  nothing  is  doing  ;  nothing  goes 
on  ;  it  is  always  La  Vallicre  weeping,  Lauzun  giggling,  and  Louis  prosing.  The  author 
knows  as  little  how  to  move  the  passions  as  he  does  of  history,  —  he  bev^-ilders  himself  in  a 
confused  chaos  of  incidents  and  thoughts.  In  (he  Convent  of  the  Carmelites,  one  after  the 
other,  arrive  the  Friar  Bragelone,  Mademoiselle  de  la  Valliire,  the  King,  the  perpetual  Lau- 
zun, and  Madame  de  Montespan.  Lauzun  is  the  bearer  of  a  dismissal  to  Madame  de  Mainte- 
non  from  the  King.  '  Our  gracious  King  permits  you  to  quit  Versailles.'  Bragelone  de- 
claims against  the  vanities  of  life  and  of  love  :  'A  never-heard  philosopher  is  life  1' 

"  He  is  on  the  i)oiut  of  '  hoarding  '  a  glove  dropped  by  Mademoiselle  de  la  Valliere,  which 
he  had  pickt-d  up,  but  he  checks  himself,  saying  '  No  !  it  is  sinful  I'  This  Bragelone  is  al- 
ways the  same  ;  he  orders  woodbine  to  be  planted  in  the  first  act,  and  he  dares  not  touch  the 
'  relics  '  of  his  mistress  in  the  last.  Mademoiselle  de  la  Valliere  is  ushered  in,  with  music, 
to  take  the  veil ;  when,  as  before,  at  the  very  foot  of  the  cross,  the  King  arrests  her  : 

'  Louis.  —  Thou  'rt  saved  —  thou'  rt  saved  !  to  love,  to  life  I 
La  Valliere. —  Ah,  sire  ! 

Louis.  —  Call  me  not  Sire  ! 


CANTO   FOURTH.  363 

Deem  the  pure  drama's  age  has  come  again, 

iiring  off  this  prose  into  heroic  lines,  -with  a  capital  letter  at  the  head 
of  each  of  them  ?  Surely,  this  is  strange  infatuation.  And  if  the 
author  ivould  not  elevate  their  diction  into  verse,  (we  set  aside  the  idea 
of  poelry,  to  oblige  him,)  what  constrained  him  to  introduce  such  person- 
ages ?  The  truth  is,  it  little  becomes  Mr.  Bulwer,  of  all  men,  to  talk 
of  "  the  florid  prcttiness  of  modern  verse,"  or  of-' the  elaborate  quaint- 
ness  of  the  elder  dramatists."  No  man  has  shown  more  of  that  "  florid 
prettiness  "  than  he  has,  in  his  other  writings,  and,  had  he  consulted 
these  "elder  dramatists,"  whose  condensation  of  thought,  and  energy  of 
expression,  he  has  thought  proper  to  term  "  elaborate  quaintness,"  dis- 
paraging his  own  critical  judgment  that  he  may  afl'ect  contempt  for  a 
merit  lie  must  despair  of  ever  imitating,  had  he  consulted  these,  I  say, 
he  would  have  seen,  how  they  make  a  monarch  talk  like  a  monarch  without 
departing  from  nature,  and  how  they  put  into  the  mouths  of  vulgar  char- 
acters language  according  with  their  qualities  or  station,  without 
making  them  guilty  of  prose.*  —  As  to  the  plot,  and  its  dependencies, 
they  are  perfectly  absurd.  And  let  us  observe  to  Mr.  Bulwer,  that, 
when  an  author  professes  to  despise  the  dramatic  unities,  it  is  because 

Fly  back,  fly  back,  to  those  delicious  hours 
When  I  was  but  thy  lover. 

And  then  my  dream.  —  my  bird  —  my  fairy  flower  — 
My  violet ! 

The  fickle  lust  of  change  allured  me  I' 
"  These  little  tender  speeches,  so  very  T)retty,  and  so  well  adapted  to  this   chapel  of  the 
Carmelites,  have  not  the  slightest  effect  in  the  world  upon  sister  Louise  ;  and  the  King  takes 
himself  off,  saying  —  '  I  will  not  hear  thee  I  Touch  me  not !  Speak  not  1  /-/-/  choke  !    These 
tears  —  let  them  speak  for  me.   Now,  now,  thy  hand  —  O,  God  !  farewell  for  ever.  — [Exit.^ 
"  Thus  ends  this  wretched  drama." 
And  what  a  different  ending  from  Mr.  Willis's  ! 
*  We  know  very  well  that  it  is  sometimes  advisable 

" propriis  rem  prodere  verbis, 

Indiciisque  suis  :"  (a) 

but  then  what  follows  ? 

"  EA  SINT  MODO  DIGNA    CaMOENIS  :''    (b) 

and  again :  — 

"  Nit  adeo  incultum,  quod  nan  splendescere  possit  : 
Praecipue  si  cilra  vigil  nan  desit,  et  usque 
Mente  premas,  muUumque  animo  tecum  ipse  volutes.''  (c) 
But  Mr.  Bulwer  writes  too  fast  to  profit  by  this  advice ;  and  he  will  have  his 
reward  for  it :  what  is  so  hastily  produced,  must  expire  with  proportionate  rapidity. 

(a)  ViD.E  Poet.  iii.  160.        *  * 

(6)  Ibid.  161.        *  * 

(c)  Ibid.  207-209.         ** 


364  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Where,  spurr'd  and  reiii'd  at  once,  his  tragic  steed,  955 

his  genius  is  not  strong  enougli  to  bear  up  under  the  restraint; 
and,  furtlier,  that  even  a  man  of  ordinary  skill  would,  instead  of  crowd- 
ing oiglit  or  nine  years  into  the  compass  of  three  hours,  have  begun 
the  play  where  Mr.  Bulwer  numbers  Ad  the  Fifth,  and  made  a  better 
thing  of  it.  It  is  not  tlie  author  of  the  Duchess  de  la  Vallihe,  even 
with  Dr.  JoHNso.v  to  back  him,  tliat  can  set  aside  Aristotle. 

953,  954  —  Talfoukds  Jlori'd  bombast  —  etc  ]  Namely,  in  the  famous 
tragedy  of  7on,  wjiich  everybody  was  prepared  to  find  every  thing  that 
is  elegant  and  correct,  and  which  accordingly  everybody  did  find 
every  thing  that  is  elegant  and  correct.  Yet  perhaps  a  stronger  instance 
of  popular  delusion  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  present  century.  In  the  first 
place,  there  is  no  real  and  absolute  distinction  of  characters  in  this  play  : 
the  only  difference  between  them  is  in  the  part  which  each  is  made  to 
assume,  externally  (so  to  speak,)  in  the  action  of  tlie  piece.  The  stern 
tyrant  Adrastus,  the  inexperienced  boy  Ion,  the  veteran  sage  Agenor, 
all  talk  the  same  flowery  and  labored  language.  Take  away  the  names 
in  the  dialogue,  and  you  would  not  know  which  is  the  speaker  of  each 
individual  passage.  From  its  excessive  embellishment.  Ion  is  often  what 
Aristotle  calls  a  mere  ^enigma.  (See  the  Poetic,  Sect.  37,  of  Twy- 
whitt's  edition,  —  Chap.  xxii.  of  Cooke's,  and  others.)  *  Mr.  Talfocrd 
is  doubtless  familiar  enough  with  the  Liber  de  Poetica.  I  would  ask 
him,  then,  if  he  do  not  remember,  that,  in  the  very  division  we  have  re- 
ferred to  of  that  little  treatise,  the  writer  insists  upon  perspicuity  ?  if, 
indeed,  the  authority  of  Aristotle,  or  of  any  of  the  writers  who  have 
copied  and  improved  upon  him,  be  necessary  to  teach  what  one  would  sup- 


And  yet,  it  is  well;  for  the  soil  is  too  light,  and  would  never  produce  any  thing  du- 
rable, though  you  were  to  manure  it,  and  plant  it,  and  prune  its  product  for  nine 
years.  The  author  of  the  Duchess  must  always  remain  what  he  is,  a  prose-writer  in 
verse,  and  a  poet  in  prose,  (a) 

*  However  much,  at  the  present  day,  one  may  affect  to  despise  the  authority  of 
Aristotle,  —  and  such  will  always  be  the  cant  of  those  who  feel  the  check  of  le- 
gitimate criticism  too  much  for  them,,  and  cannot  manage  their  genius,  —  he  is  surely 
(even  in  this  generation)  entitled  to  respect,  whom  Cicero  pronounced  the  first  of 
philosophers,  excepting  Fi.ato,  {De  Fin.  1.  i.,)  and,  with  the  same  e.vception,  excel- 
ling all  others  in  capacity  and  diligence.  ("  Aristoteles  lon;,'e  omnibus,  (Platoncm 
semper  excipio)  pr:rstaiis  ct  ingcnio  ct  diligentia."     Tusc.  Disp.  i.  10.) 

(a)  1  believe  that  all  well-ediicalcd  and  right-lhinkiiig  men  agree  with  me  in  my  general 
condemnation  of  this  autlior;  and  I  beg  that  such  will  not  suppose  that  these  extended  re- 
marks are  meant  for  them,  the  few,  but  for  the.  ?nany^  the  mass  of  readers,  who  are  likely  to 
lose  the  use  of  what  little  brains  they  possess,  through  the  bad  taste  of  such  writers  as  Mr. 
Uui.wKR,  and  the  impertinence  of  newspaper-critics  like  Petkonus. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  365 

A  hard-mouth'd  pacer  of  celestial  breed, 

pose  that  nature  and  common  sense  must  indicate ;  for  with  what  object 
do  we  write,  if  not  to  be  understood  ?  and  liow,  Mr.  Tai.fourd,  shall  we 
follow  your  subject,  if  the  imagination  has  to  step  aside,  first  to  the  right, 
and  then  to  the  left,  incessantly,  to  gather  flowers,  or  to  pick  up  pebbles? 
This  is  the  fault  of  the  day,  the  egregious  error  that  should  dazzle  no 
writer  over  five-and-twenty,  and  can  only  arise  from  bad  taste*  orshort- 

*  Apropos  of  bad  taste.  Mr.  Sargeant  Talkourd  has  written  the  life  of  Lamb, 
and  the  New  York  Rei-iew,  a  quarterly  publication,  gives  of  it  this  judgment,  and  the 
specimen  which  follows,  (we  quote  from  Pktronius,  who  says  it  is  "  so  beau- 
tiful"!);— 

"  The  little  which  he  has  done,  has,  however,  been  done  in  such  a  manner  as  to  add  a  new 
leaf  to  the  laurels  of  the  author  of  '  Ion.'  Good  taste,  good  feeling,  a  love  for  the  man  as 
well  as  an  admiration  for  the  author,  a  rare  sagacity  in  criticism,  and  a  benevolence  in  spi- 
rit ever  ready  to  see  the  soul  of  good  in  things  evil,  and  to  put  the  best  construction  upon  all 
doubtful  acts —  these  are  the  qualifications  which  he  has  brought  to  his  task.  We  have  had 
constant  occasion  to  remark  upon  the  delicacy  of  his  discrimination,  and  the  justness  and 
profoundness  of  his  reflections.  fVhat  cart  be  more  true  and  more  admirably  expressed, 
more  full  of  that  tohich  makes  up  the  best  and  highest  style  of  criticism.,  than  the  following 
observations  upon  '■  Rosamond  Gray '!''  (a) 

'"In  his  tale,  nothing  is  made  out  with  distinctness,  except  the  rustic  piety  and  grace  of 
the  lovely  girl  and  her  venerable  grandmother,  which  are  pictured  with  such  earnestness  and 
simplicity  as  might  beseem  a  fragment  of  the  book  of  Ruth.  The  villain  who  lays  waste 
their  humble  joys  is  a  7nurky  phantom  without  individuality  ;  the  events  are  obscured  by 
the  hate  of  sentiment  which  hovers  over  them,  and  the  narrative  gives  way  to  the  reflections 
of  the  author,  who  is  mingled  with  the  persons  of  the  tale  in  the  visionary  confusion,  and 
gives  to  it  the  character  of  a  sweet  but  disturbed  dream.  It  has  an  interest  now  beyond  that 
of  fiction;  for  in  it  we  may  trace,  '  as  in  a  glass  darkly,'  the  characteristics  of  the  mind  and 
heart  of  the  author  at  a  lime  when  a  change  was  coming  upon  them.     There  are  the  dainty 

(a)  "It  is  this  vigorous,  direct  and  manly  tone,"  (says  the  vigorous,  direct,  and  manly 
Petronius,  in  his  '  review  '  of  the  Review,  Jan.  6th,  1838,)  "  that  we  very  much  need,  and 
see  so  little  of,  in  our  periodical  literature  —  and  when  sustained,  as  in  the  instance  before 
us,  by  high  attainments  in  letters,  by  varied  knowledge,  by  great  research,  and  the  elo- 
quence of  style  as  well  as  thought,  it  cannot  fail  to  produce  most  beneficial  results." 

Bravo  !  this  deserves  another  specimen  of  "  the  instance  before  us."  The  eloquent  of 
style  as  well  as  thought  is  speaking  of  Mr.  Bulweh,  and  his  Ernest  Maltravers  .• — 

—  "  for  achieving  an  enduring  place  in  literature  (says  the  eloquent  of  style  as  icell  as 
thought),  he  possesses  in  too  Iowa  degree  several  primary  qualities,  and  among  them  espe- 
cially what  may  be  lermed  artislicfil  construrtiveness.  He  has  fertility  of  invention,  but 
little  creative  power.   [There's  a  distinction  without  a  diflerence,  for  you,  Mr.  Bulwer  !]  " 

N.  Y.  Review,  No.  iii.  p.  233. 

By  the  novel  phrase  we  have  italicized,  we  suppose  is  meant  that  justness  of  conception, 
and  skill  in  construction,  which  mark  a  master  of  his  art.  Such  dogmatislical  pedantiscity, 
we  augurale,  is  destinated  to  manipulate  a  most  ameliorating  influence  on  the  hitherto-in- 
domitable ruslicalily  of  United-Statesian  authorhood,  and  exaltate  to  a  jiopulear  altitude  of 
artistical  refinementability  the  luxuriant  forest  of  our  arboraceous  literature.  Under  which 
impression,  "we  bid"  the  Reviewers,  in  llie  congenial  elegance  of  the  N.  Y.  American, 
"  God  speed  [  ye  ]  1  "  and  "  Go  ahead  !" 


36G  THE  VISION  of  rubeta. 

Feather'd  and  bell'd,  with  head  erected  high, 
Snorts  through  the  mist,  scarce  moves,  jet  seems  to  fly. 

sighted  ambition.  "Oxu;  (says  Longi.nus,  in  a  passage  which  I  recom- 
mend to  the   author  of  Ion,  as  well  as  to  his    complaisant,  admirers,) 

"OXus  V  (oixiv  iivcei  TO  ol^ui/,  iv  <ro'!i  (/.aXiirra,  'hvs(pu\a,KTOTaTot'  (fvan  ya^  ci'ra.vris 
el  uiyi^ous  i^iifuvoi,  (fiuyovris  aa-^tvtias  xai  |»^«t>)to;  xarccyvaxriv,  ovk  oib'  orais  S'r) 
roiy  v-Tropipivrai,  ■ffii^ifiivoi  tm,  —  ^l  i  y  a,  X  a  ;  a.  "tt  o  \  t  tr^  a.  t  v  i  i  v  o  fi  u  ; 
Ivyivis  audprrifica.  K.axoi  0£  oyxoi^  xu.)  iv)  ffuifj.a.Tit)v  xa.)  \oyu-j^  oi  ^auioi  xai 
avaX«SiK,  xa)  ^'/{itots  ?ri^i'i<rTdvTis  flf^a;  u;  TovnavTio]/'  oullv  y  a  ^,  (flatri, 
^npoTtpov    uopoi'prixov.     [i/c  iSubl.,  oect.  ni.J 

Yet  is  this  very  tragedy,  at  times,  so  beautifully  pathetic,  (let  us  in- 
stance the  death  of  Adrastus,)  that  we  are  guilty  of  no  affectation, 
Avhen  we  say  we  regret,  that  a  piece,  which  in  some  respects  approaches 
quite  near  to  dramatic  excellence,  should  be  so  plastered  with  ornament, 
as  to  appear  rather  a  show-box  than  a  series  of  well-finished  paintings. 
And  this  was  the  work,  they  tell  us,  of  some  fifteen  years  !  Isocrates' 
Panegyric  over  again  !  If  Mr.  Talfourd,  or  his  enraptured  eulogists, 
would  know  how  the  passions  may  be  moved  without  stepping  one  inch 
out  of  the  domain  of  Nature,  and  how  poetry  may  be  written  without 
laying  hold  of  the  moon,  we  refer  them  to  the  crowned  tragedy  of 
Monti. 

955  -  958.  Where,  spurred  and  rchi'd  at  once,  etc.]  In  these  verses,  I 
have  endeavored  to  set  out  the  characteristics  of  Ion :  and  the  reader 
will  allow  me  to  remind  him,  that,  in  this  view,  not  even  the  phrase  ce- 
lestial breed  is  to  be  considered  as  without  a  precise  application,  being 
not  merely  expressive  of  any  Pegasus  whatever,  but  meant  to  show  that 
this  tragedy  is  truly  poetical,  albeit  not  of  the  purest  school  ;  or,  to  re- 
sume the  metaphor  of  the  text,  Mr.  Sergeant  Talfourd's  horse  may  be 
said  to  be  better  dressed  for  parade  than  actual  service. 

957.  —  beWd  — ]  An  expression  which  suggests  to  us,  in  corrobora- 
tion of  the  Author's  remarks  on  the  florid  poetry  of  Ion,  a  very  applicable 

sense  of  beauty  just  weaned  from  its  palpable  object,  and  quivering  over  its  lost  images  ; 
feeling,  grown  retrospective  before  its  time,  and  tinging  all  things  with  a  stra7igc  solem- 
nity ;  hints  of  that  craving  after  immediate  appliances  which  might  give  impulse  to  a  har- 
assed frame  and  confidence  to  struggling  fancy,  and  of  that  escape  from  the  pressure  of 
agony  into  fantastic  mirth,  wliich  in  after-life  made  Lamb  a  problem  to  a  stranger,  while 
they  endeared  him  a  thousand  fold  to  those  who  really  knew  him."    Vol.  i.  p.  90. 

Truly  indeed  is  this  worthy  of  the  author  of  "  Ion  "  !  the  same  murkij  Jlashiness 
(to  parody  his  own  absurd  language)  without  perspicuity,  the  same  ambition  after 
false  ornament,  which  crushes  the  life  out  of  his  meaning,  by  the  glittering  trash  he 
heaps  upon  it  out  of  mistaken  kindness.  Mr.  Cari.yi.e  himself  could  not  write 
more  fustian  foolery  than  the  lines  we  Jiave  underscored. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  367 

Health  to  the  King !  nor  let  his  readers  smile ; 
Long  may  he  live  recondite  judge  of  style  960 

plirase  of  the  preceptor  of  Zenobia's  :  —  to  ■xa^rax.oii  nuhmai  t|«ip9o:;,  x/av 
vo(pi(fTiKov.  [De  Subl.  xxiii.]  To  which  may  bo  added,  with  a  like  object, 
Faber's  note  upon  tlie  passage  :  — "  Apud  antiques,  Ku^av.s,  sou  tintin- 
nabula,  frsenis  et  phaleris  equorum  addcbantur;  7ion  tamen  uhiqiie  et  sem- 
per, sed  cum  decursio  aliqua  equestris  aut  transvectio  fiebat,  seu  quid 
aliud  ejus  generis,  quod  splendide  fieri  deceret."  Or,  as  we  would  say 
in  our  country,  the  best  horses  carry  bells  when  the  snow  is  on  the 
ground,  but  it  is  only  the  itinerant  dealer  in  rags  and  rusty  iron  that 
keeps  the  belly  of  his  pony  jingling  at  all  seasons.         *  * 

960  -  963.  Lo7ig  may  he  live,  recondite  judge  of  style  —  Who  sees  a  mir- 
acle, etc.] 

"  The  French  Revolution  :  a  History.  Three  volumes  in  two.  By  Thomas 
Carlyle.  Boston  :  Charles  C.  Little  Sf  James  Brown. —  We  cannot  be  mistaken  in 
supposing  this  work  will  attract  much  attention.  It  is  something  quite  new  in  its 
manner  and  power  of  execution.  Discarding  the  connected,  grave,  and  stately 
style  of  history,  it  isolates  groups,  or  individuals,  or  events,  and,  clustering  round 
them  all  the  incidents  and  accessories  of  the  hour,  presents  rather  a  series  of  dra- 
matic sketches,  in  which  ice  are  made  to  share  in  the  individual  feelings  and  hopes 
and  acts  of  those  before  us,  with  an  intensity  that,  at  times,  is  almost  painful;  and 
yet  there  runs  throughout  a  connected  thread  of  narrative."  Etc.  Etc. 
"  We  copy  some  striking  passages."  [N.  Y.  Am.  Jan.  20th,  1838.]  * 
T]iese  striking  passages  spread  through  nearly  three  entire  columns 
in  small  type,  of  his  newspaper.     What  they  are  we  shall  give  the  read- 

*  That  silly  publication,  the  American  Monthlij  Magazine,  says  of  the  same 
stuff:— 

"  It  is  ^picture  hook,  a  series  of  sketches  of  the  striking  scenes  of  the  Revolution, 
touched  with  a  power  ivhich  briyigs  every  thing  before  you,  enchains  your  interest,  and 
makes  you  read  in  spite  oi  ^  prejudice  against  the  artifice  and  aflectation  of  the  dic- 
tion,—  to  which  at  last  tjou  become  reconciled,  though  perhaps  never  quite  cordially  :" 
and  concludes  its  reviewal  thus :  —  "  Still,  you  may  condemn  all  this,  you  may  get 
angry  at  it  and  seold  about  it,  if  you  please  ;  hut,  if  you  begin  to  read  the  book,  you  ivill 
read  it  to  the  end."     [i\umber  for  March  1838,  p.  290.]    (a) 

And  such,  O  Americans,  are  the  guides  to  taste  in  your  republic  ! 

(a)  We  take  occasion  to  say  that  this  dainty  extract  from  the  Am.  M.  Magazine  is  a  fair 
specimen  of  the  tone  of  criticism  in  all  magazines,  whether  domestic  or  foreign,  at  the  pre- 
sent enlightened  era  in  literature.  There  are  no  such  words,  nowadays,  as  respectable 
and  respectability  .•  every  thing  that  is  good  is  great,  that  which  interests  must  strike  and 
thrill,  and  the  youth  who  can  tell  you,  without  prosing,  how  the  Arabs  make  a  mess  of 
sheeps'  intestines,  possesses  not  talents,  but  genius,  and  his  easy  pen  displays  no  longer  abil- 
ity, but  power.  In  the  same  number  of  the  Am.  M.  Magazine  that  is  mentioned  above,  the 
leading  article  in  the  series  of  "  Reviews  "  commences  thus  :  — 

"  A  rose  bathed  and  baptized  in  dew  —  a  star  in  its  first  gentle  emergence  above  the  horizon 


368  THi:  VISION  of  rubeta. 

Who  sees  a  miracle  in  Tom  Carlyle, 
Makes  madness  but  a  thrilling  power  intense, 


er  some  idea  of,  by  a  few  extracts.  But  we  beg  liim,  beforcliand,  not  to 
tliink  these  any  madness  of  our  own  :  the  sentences  we  quote  are  ac- 
tually in  Petkomus's  sheet ;  and  whether  he  or  Mr.  Carlylk  concocted 
them  is  only  known  to  Bedlam. 

"  Which  of  these  six  hundred  individuals,  in  plain  white  cravat,  that  have  come 
up  to  regenerate  France,  might  one  guess,  would  become  their  king  ?  "  Etc.  "  He 
with  the  thick  black  locks,  will  it  be  ?  With  the  hure,  as  himself  calls  it,  or  black 
boar's-ltead,  at  to  be  'shaken'  as  a  senatorial  portent?  Through  whose  shaggy 
beetle-brows,  and  rough-hewn,  seamed,  carbuncled  face,  there  look  natural  ugli- 
ness, small-pox,  incontinence,  bankruptcy,  and  burning  fire  of  genius  5  like  comet- 
fire  glaring  fuliginous  through  murkiest  confusions?  It  is  Gabriel  Honor^ 
Riquelli  de  Mirabtau,  the  world-compellcr  ;  man-ruling  Deputy  of  Aix  !  According 
to  the  Baroness  de  Sta^l,  he  steps  proudly  along,  though  looked  at  askance  here; 
and  shakes  his  black  chevelure,  or  lion's-mane  ;  as  if  prophetic  of  great  deeds." 

Is  not  this  glorious  stuff?     We  must  have  some  more  of  it. 

"  How  the  old  lion  (for  our  old  Marquis  too  was  lionlike,  most  unconquerable, 
kingly-genial,  most  perverse)  gazed  wondering  on  his  offspring;  and  determined  to 
train  him  as  no  lion  had  yet  been  !  It  is  in  vain,  O  Marquis  !  This  cub,  though 
thou  slay  him  and  flay  him,  will  not  learn  to  draw  in  dogcart  of  Political  Economy, 
and  be  a  Friend  of  Men ;  he  will  not  be  Thou,  but  must  and  will  be  Himself, 
another  than  Thou.  Divorce  lawsuits,  '  whole  family  save  one  in  prison,  and  three 
score  Lettres-de-Cadiet '  for  thy  own  sole  use,  do  but  astonish  the  world." 

A  little  more. 

"  He  has  pleaded  before  Aix  Parlements  (to  get  back  his  wife) ;  the  public  gath- 
ering on  roofs,  to  see  since  they  could  not  hear  :  '  the  clatter-teeth  (claque-dents)  ." 
snarls  singular  old  ftlirabeau  ;  discerning  in  such  admired  forensic  eloquence  nothing 
but  two  clattering  jaw-bones,  and  a  head  vacant,  sonorous,  of  the  drum  species." 

Again : 

"  All  reflex  and  echo  (tout  de  rejlet  ei  de  r^verbere)  !"  snarls  old  Mirabeau,  who 
can  see,  but  will  not.  Crabbed  old  Friend  of  Men  !  it  is  his  sociality,  his  aggrega- 
tive nature  :  and  will  now  be  the  quality  of  all  for  him." 

If  the  reader  understand  what  all  this  means,  it  is  more  than  we  do. 
But  it  is  such  capital  sport  to  read  it,  and  know  all  the  Avhilo,  fever- 
dream-like,  that  actually  not  bending  is  one  his  optical  convexities,  cat- 
like-over-mouse, on  High  Dutch,  that  we  must  give  one  delicious  little  bit 
more. 


are  types  of  the  soul  of  Nathaniel  Hawthorne ;  every  vein  of  which  (if  we  may  so  speak), 

in  fiWeA  and  instinct  wilk  I'caiittj.     It  has  expanded  like  a  blossom,  in  tlie  gtiy  sunshine  and 
sad  shower,  slowly  and  mutely  to  a  rich  and  natural  maturity." 

This  is  the  sort  ofstuflT  (not  even  common  sense,  and  scarcely  English,)  of  which  is  made  our 
modern  criticism.        *  * 


CAJNTo  Kouiirii.  369 

And,  with  a  fellow-feeling,  fustian  sense  ! 


"  Towards  such  work,  in  such  manner,  marches  he,  tliis  singular  lii(juctti  Mira- 
beau.  In  fiery  rough  figure,  with  black  Samson-locks  under  tlio  slouch-hat  he  steps 
along  there.  A  fiery  fuliginous  mass,  which  could  not  be  choked  and  smothered, 
but  would  fill  all  France  with  smoke.  And  now  it  has  got  air;  it  will  burn  its 
whole  substance,  its  whole  smoke-atmosphere  too,  and  fill  all  France  with  flame. 
Strange  lot !  Forty  years  of  that  smouldering,  with  foul  fire-damp  and  vapor  enough  ; 
then  victory  over  that;  — and  like  a  burning  mountain  he  blazes  heaven  high  ;  and 
for  twenty-three  resplendent  months,  pours  out,  in  molten  Hame  and  molten  fire-tor- 
rents, all  that  is  in  him,  the  Pharos  and  Wonder-sign  of  an  amazed  Europe;  —  and 
then  lies  hollow,  cold  for  ever  !" 

This  is  quite  enough  display  for  Mr,  Thomas  Carlyle  :  but  Petro- 
Nius  we  must  toucli  up  again  ivith  the  long  pole,  and  shoAv  the  ladies 
and  gentlemen  how  well  the  extraordinary  animal  knows  its  own  mind. 
Compare,  Avitli  his  remarks  above,  the  following,  made  exactly  six  months 
afterwards :  — 

"  Critical  and  Miscellaneous  Essays.  By  Thomas  Carlyle.  2  vols. 
Boston  :  James  Munroe  S^'  Co.  1833.  — The  celebrity  attained  by  Mr.  Carlyle,  wheth- 
er his  desert  —  to  its  full  extent  —  or  not,  will  naturally  render  us  cautious  in  the 
expression  of  an  opinion,  which  may  differ  somewhat  from  the  verdict  of  the  million. 
The  very  extravagance  of  his  admirers,  leads  to  a  suspicious  examination  of  his 
claims  to  merit,  pushed  as  they  are  to  the  very  verge  of  idolatry.  It  appears  that, 
with  many,  his  adoption  of  the  German  idiom  in  the  fabrication  of  fanciful  epithets, 
and  tortuous,  knotty  phrases,  ringing  the  changes  upon  a  long  row  of  synonymes,  is 
his  principal  claim  to  their  admiration.     But  to  us  it  savors  ofliterartj  quackery." 

This,  despite  its  contradictions,  is  so  like  good  sense,  and  so  unlike 
any  thing  we  have  ever  yet  seen  of  Petronius's  reviewing,  that  we 
strongly  suspect  his  intellect  received  some  foreign  enlightenment  in 
the  interim  between  the  publication  of  the  History  and  of  the  Essays. 
We  quote  it  as  a  phenomenon.  But  he  will  cliange  again  before 
long.  * 

*  Sure  enough.  To-day,  Sept.  .5tli,  as  this  portion  of  the  manuscript  is  goin^-  tlirougli 
our  hands,  for  its  last  revision  previously  to  being  set  in  type,  we  meet  in  the  N.  Y. 
Am.,  of  Aug.  31st,  ihe  following  passage  from  Carlyle,  given  as  a  choice  extract  of 
the  editors'  own,  under  the  head  of  "  Fruits  of  Desultory  Reading."  (God  bless  the 
man  that  invented  letters  !) 

"  Death  of  a  Kino,  and  birth  of  Democracy.  —  Alas  !  much  more  lies  sick  than 
poor  Louis  XV  :  not  the  French  King  only,  but  the  French  Kingship  ;  this,  too,  after  long 
rough  wear  and  tear,  is  breaking  down.  The  world  is  all  so  changed  :  so  much  that  seem- 
ed vigorous,  has  sunk  decrejiit  —  so  much  that  was  not,  is  beginning  to  be  !  Borne  over  the 
Atlantic  to  the  closing  ear  of  Louis,  King  by  the  grace  of  God,  what  sounds  are  these ;  muf- 
fled, ominous  —  new  in  our  centuries  ?  Boston  Harbor  is  black  with  unexpected  tea  :  behold 
a  Pennsylvania  Congress  gather,  and  ere  long,  on  Bunker-IIill,  Democracy  announcing,  in 
rifle-vollies  death-winged,  under  her  Star  lianiur,  to  the  tunc  of  Yaiikeo-doodlo-doo,  that  she 
is  born,  and,  whirl-wind  like,  will  envelope  the  whole  world  !  Carlyle."        *  * 

47 


370  THE    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Shout,  Bedlam  !  let  fresh  charcoal  smut  your  wall ; 
A  mate  is  found  will  swallow  all  you  scrawl ;  9G5 


Ver.  962.  — thrilling  — ]  I  use  this  epithet,  because,  like  intense,  it  is  a 
favorite  expression  with  Petronius  and  his  kind,  whether  journalists  or 
magazinists,  though  on  this  public  occasion  the  modest  newsman  con- 
tented himself,  as  we  have  seen,  with  a  substitute,  stronger  indeed,  but 
less  elegant. 

So  diflicult  is  it  for  our  smart  little  critics  to  do  wiilioiit  this  rant,  tliat  a  person  "  who 
was  formerly  engaged  in  the  editorial  office  of  the  Journal  of  Commerce"  in  New 
York,  "  a  member  of  Dr.  Spring's  church,"  when  committing  a  forgery  by  writing 
a  letter  to  one  merchant  in  the  name  of  another,  in  which  he  modestly  requested  the 
loan  of  a  small  sum  of  money,  so  far  forgot  himself  in  the  habit  of  his  trade,  as  to  add, 
in  the  expression  of  a  fervent  wish  to  see  the  former,  that  he,  the  writer,  had  news  of 
'  thrilling  interest '  to  communicate  !"     See  the  N.  Y.  Am.  of  Oct.  29,  18^5. 

There  are  few  occasions  in  life,  except  in  the  intercourse  between  the  sexes,  where 
we  are  made  to  thrill,  and  preciously  few  are  the  books,  if  any,  where  the  interest 
of  the  story  is  of  "  an  intensity  that  at  limes  is  almost  painful."  Yet,  splendid  has 
taken  the  place  o{  elegant,  superb  of  fine,  magnificent  of  capacioi/s,  princehj  oi  gener- 
ous, Jiiinj  of  delicate,  and  so  on,  and  so  on  ;  why  should  not  thrilling  and  intense  be 
allowed  to  follow  in  the  train  of  usurpation  ?         *  * 

963.  Jlnd,  iviih  a  fellow-feeling,  fustian  sense !  ]  We  have  given  al- 
ready, at  the  close  of  the  third  Canto,  a  specimen  of  our  newsman's 
grandiloquent  style.     We  now  add  another  elegant  extract. 

"  When  the  ivrithing  political  bankrupts  shall  seek  to  impair  the  effect  of  this  ap- 
peal to  the  people,  by  declamations  against  all  banks,  and  by  efforts  to  drive  the  Whigs 
into  the  defence  of  the  Slate  institutions,  and  thereby  to  identify  them  as  a  party  with 
banks  —  the  ready  answer  will  still  be,  ''  these  bunks,  hypocrites  !  which  ye  now  de- 
nounce, you  yourselves  brought  into  being,  endued  with  power,  sent  your  special  agent, 
Amos  Kendall,  to  tamper  rvith  and  corrupt ;  to  the7n,  ijou  yourselves  gave  up  the  cus- 
tody of  the  public  inoneys  —  married  them  to  the  State  —  and  now,  when  you  seek  to  es- 
cape from  the  adulterous  connexion,  and  cry  out  divorce  !  divorce  !  we  tell  you,  to  your 
teeth,  that  we,  loho  were  guiltless  of  promoting  or  consenting  to  the  marriage,  %vill  lend 
you  no  aid  to  annul  it  —  much  less  will  we  take  to  our  bosom  those  ichom  you  first  de- 
bauched, and  now  denounce  as  harlots."     N.  Y.  Am.  Sept.  1,  1837.* 

"  Out,  out,  thou  strumpet.  Fortune  !  all  you  gods, 
In  general  synod,  take  away  her  power ; 
Break  all  the  spokes  and  fellies  from  her  wheel, 


*  As  the  employer,  so  of  course  the  employed. 

"  [Correspondence  of  the  New  York  American.] 

"  Boston,  July  25,  183B. 
"  Yesterdaj'  I  was  the  observer  of  a  scene  which  would  require  a  sunbeam  for  a  pencil, 
and  the  heavens  for  a  scroll,  that  sufficient  justice  might  be  done  the  subject."     [To  wit, 
"  the  Webster  Dinner,"]        *  * 


CANTO   FOURTH.  371 

Alone  their  motley  merits  more  divine, 
Whose  eulogy  yields  sixpence  by  the  line  ; 

And  bowl  tlio  round  nave  down  the  hill  of  heaven, 

As  low  as  to  the  fiends."  * 
Why  should  not  sucli  talents  be  employed  for  the  good  of  the  country 
in  the  House  of  Representatives  ?  why  not  in  the  Senate  ?  Let  a 
meeting  be  called  forthwith,  and  Petronius  be  proposed  as  a  candidate 
for  the  coming  session.  Then  shall  young  America  listen  to  the 
thunders  of  a  modern  Demosthenes,  and  the  whole  world  shake  to  the 
echoes. 


But  let  not  America  think  that  this  is  all  her  worthiest  son  (but  one) 
can  do ;  sometimes  he  assumes  a  more  modest  mein,  and  rivals  Rubeta 
in  the  gentler  graces  of  pleasantry.     Thus,  Jlay  12th,  1838 :  — 
"  The  Weather. 
"Winter  lingers  in  the  lap  of  spring." — Ritchie. 

"  May,  who  lias  been  a  very  cross,  fretful,  crying  child,  will  enter  her  teens  to-mor- 
row, and  it  is  high  time  that  she  should  be  imbued  with  such  a  sense  of  propriety  as  to 
eject  from  her  lap  that  decrepid  little  wretch.  Winter.  Let  her  wipe  away  her  tears, 
change  her  dress,  and  try  if  she  cannot  be  a  more  amiable  girl,  than  she  has  been  an 
infant.  She  is  now  making  an«attempt  to  smile,  let  her  commence  a  new  career  to- 
morrow, and  realize  the  hopes  of  the  fond  circle  of  her  friends." 

Sometimes,  too,  he  dares  compare  with  him  in  wit  I 

"Carried  in  the  Affirmative.  —  A  daily  paper  advertises  GOO  baskets  .4j/ 
Champagne.  '  Are  you  ready  for  the  question  ?  Those  in  favor  of  this  Champagne 
will  please  to  say  Ay  !  —  the  contrary,  No  !'    The  Ayes  have  it." 

[Ed.  N.  Y.  Am.  Aug.  31st,  1838.]        *  » 
966,  967.  —  their  motley  merits  more  divine,  —  Iflwse  eulogy  —  etc.] 

insani  ridentes  preemia  scribas.f 

Be  it  observed,  however,  it  is  not  at  the  perquisites  of  open  advertise- 
ments that  we  laugh  (tliey  are  all  in  the  way  of  fair  trade),'but  at  tlie 

*  Hamlet,  Act  ii.  Sc.  2.  *  * 

t  HoR.  Serm.  i.  Sat.  v.  25.  Cornelius  Nepos,  cited  by  the  commentators  on 
this  passage,  says,  '•'  Apudnos  revera,  sicuT  sunt,  mercenarii  scribaa  existimantur." 
The  scribes  of  the  present  age,  though  somewhat  different  in  function,  have  not  a 
whit  degener.ited  from  their  Roman  prototypes.  Our  Author  might  say,  with  the 
poet  Crabbe,  — 

"  I  too  must  aid,  and  pay  to  see  my  name 
Hung  in  these  dirty  avenues  to  Fame  ; 
Norpaij  in  vain,  ifau^lit  the  muse  lias  seen, 
And  sung,  could  make  those  ai^enues  more  clean; 
Could  stop  one  slander,  ere  it  found  its  way 
And  gave  to  public  scorn  its  helpless  prey." 

The  Newspaper.  "  * 


372  Tin;  vision  of  rubf.ta. 

Be  the  same  songstress,  lying  auctioneer, 
Rope-dancer,  monkey-feeder,  pamphleteer. 


secret- service  money  obtained  by  the  insertion  of  delicate  little  commen- 
datory notices  in  editorial  type,  in  a  part  of  the  paper  where  advertise- 
ments are  supposed  to  be  never  admitted.  We  have  a  quantity  of  these 
from  the  JV.  Y.  Jlmerican,  but  we  shall  select  only  enougli  to  illustrate 
the  text,  and  shall  present  them  in  the  order  in  which  their  subjects  there 
are  named.  But  first  let  the  reader  see,  on  p.  293,  how  Petronids 
insinuates  a  charge  of  corruption  against  his  contemporary  Rubeta. 

"NiBLo's  Garden.  —  Mrs.  made  her  first  appearance  here  on   Monday 

night  and  was  highly  successful.  She  unites  to  a  handsome  person,  great  musical 
taste,  etc.  She  cannot  fail  to  add  to  the  varied  attractions  of  this  celebrated  place 
of  public  resort,  which  has  been  :;rowded  every  evening  since  it  opened.  —  [Cour- 
ier.] "     [June  20th,  1838.] 

"  [Communicated.'] 

"  We  request  the  attention  of  our  readers  to  the  sale  of  eleven  lots  which  are  to 
be  offered  <at  auction  tomorrow  by,  etc.,  and  as  the  sale  will  be  positive  and  the  lots 
sold  not  subject  to  redemption,  a  good  opportunity  is  offered  to  any  person  who 
wishes  to  reside  in  the  most  delightful  part  of  our  city."     [March  8th,  1838.] 

"A  large  assortment  of  splendid  fancy  articles  will  be  sold  at  the  Auction  Store 
of,  etc.,  to-morrow  morning  at  11  o'clock.  All  persons  desirous  of  making  handsome 
New  Year  presents,  should  attend  the  sale."    [Dec.  27,  1837.] 

"  NiBLO's.  —  Last  7urrht  but  one  of  the  Ravels.  —  This  astonishing  family  perform  in 
two  pieces  this  evening,  and  the  Grand  Ascension  in  the  open  garden  is  to  be  repeat- 
ed by  Madame  Jerome  and  Javelli  Ravel,  who  run  up  (we  might  almost  say,^^;/  up) 
a  single  rope  to  the  terrific  summit  of  a  lofty  tower,  erected  for  that  purpose,  sur- 
rounded by  brilliant  fireworks  !  —  [Communicated.]  "     [JuJy  5th,  1838.] 

"  National  Theatre. —  We  understand  that  the  Exhibition  of  Animals  at  this 
house  from  the  Zoological  Institute  attracts  crowded  audiences  nightly.  The  scene 
of  Mr.  Van  Amburgii,  as  agladiator,  in  the  cage  containing  lions,  tigers,  and  leop- 
ards, is  said  to  be  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  displays  of  fearless  intrepidity  ever 
witnessed."     [June  20th,  1838.] 

"The Manual,  or,  &c.     By .  — Were  this  book  valuable  on  no 

other  account,  &c.  &,c.     [Comm.  Advertiser.]  "     [Dec.  7th,  1837.] 

This  last  is  the  only  one  that  lias  an  obelisk  (f )  to  mark  that  it  is  paid  for. 
But  since  the  month  of  August,  1838,  Petronius  has  taken  it  into  his  head 
to  imitate  Rubeta,  occasionally,  in  this  apology  to  decency.  Therefore,  in 
future,  if  any  near-sighted  person,  or  one  not  acquainted  with  hiero- 
glyphics, should  not  perceive,  or,  perceiving,  should  not  understand,  the 
little  thing  in  the  corner,  he  can  only  blame  himself,  if  he  get  taken  in 
at  an  auction,  or  run  the  risk  of  smothering  his  family  at  an  exhibition  not 
worth  a  cent ;  for  what  business  lias  he  to  suppose  such  an  editor  as 
Petronius  writes  all  that  he  appears  to  write,  or  approves  of  every 


CANTO   FOURTH.  373 

Down  to  the  page  where  shines,  or  lately  shone,    97o 
The  messing-mate  of  princes,  princely  Stone. 


thing  he  would  seem  to  recommend  ?  —  But  the  venality  ?  The  venality  ! 
You  mistake:  it  is  pliilantliropy,  liberality,  genuine  democracy,  regard  for 
the  public.  What!  are  not  the  elements  open  to  all?  Be  not  ashamed  then, 
O  Petromus,  of  thy  facility  ;  still  lend  the  sanction  of  thy  high  author- 
ity to  everybody  that  will  pay  for  it,  and  glory  in  this,  that  thy  favors  are, 
like  celestial  blessings,  showered  upon  all  men ;  for  ivater  is  free  to  all, 
neither  is  fire  of  one  possessor ;  the  lovely  stars  look  doivn  on  myriads, 
and  the  bright  Sun  himself  is  but  a  god  of  the  people.  * 

970,  971.  Down  to  the  page  ivhere  shines,  etc.]  "  The  Knickerbocker 
Magazine,"  A  long  ^jz/T  of  this  periodical  pamphlet,  in  the  very  style 
of  the  advertisement  of  the  "  N.  Y.  Mirror  Magazine,"  was  inserted  in 
the  columns  of  the  N.  Y.  American,  (June  30th,  1838,)  as  a  communica- 
tion. Nay,  the  editor  of  this  journal  went  so  far  as  to  preface  the  mat- 
ter in  these  words  :  —  "  The  Knickerbocker  has  full  justice  done  to  all 
its  merits  in  a  communication  to  be  found  in  another  place."  Now  this 
very  communication  had  appeared,  a  few  days  before,  in  the  Commercial 
Advertiser,  and,  for  aught  I  know  to  the  contrary,  in  other  journals.  It 
was  therefore  most  certainly  a  paid  advertisement.  The  reader  shall 
judge  of  the  style  of  this  article,  which  is  passed  off  upon  the  public,  by 
the  editor  of  the  N.  Y.  American,  as  a  simple  literary  notice,  and  one  of 
a  fair  kind. 

"  No  periodical  in  this  country  can  boast  the  number,  variety,  and  character  of 
the  contributors,  that  this  our  favorite  magazine  possesses.  Take  the  volume,  for 
instance,  which  will  close  with  the  .Tune  number.  We  find  in  it,  besides  a  great 
variety  of  communications,  from  writers  of  established  reputation,  of  entertainino-  or 
amusing  light  reading,  as  well  as  of  a  solid  and  useful  character,  articles  from  the 
pens  of  Cooper,  the  American  novelist.  Dr.  Dick  of  Edinburgh,  the  distinguished 
author  of  the  'Christian  Philosopher,'  &,c.,  Prof.  Longfellow,  of  Cambridge,  author 
of 'Outre  Mer,'  Thos.  Campbell,  England,  Nicholas  Biddle,  Esq.,  the  popular  au- 
thor of  the  '  Palmyra  Letters,'  Mr.  Buckingham,  the  Oriental  Traveller,  Willis  Gay- 
lord  Clark,  Esq.,  or'Ollapod,'  Hon.  Chief  .Justice  Mellen,  of  Maine,  E.  L.  Bulwer, 
the  novelist,  COL.  STONE,  of  N.  York,  Gait,  author  of  '  Laurie  Todd,'  Rev.  Mr. 
Colton,  of  the  Navy,  author  of  '  Ship  and  Shore,'  &c.,  Herbert,  author  of  '  The 
Brothers,'  and  Mrs.  Sigourney,  with  many  others  of  scarcely  less  merit  and  reputa- 
tion. These  writers,  it  should  be  remembered,  are  included  in  only  the  last  five 
successive  numbers,  while  in  those  of  previous  ones,  as  given  in  the  advertisement 
of  the  tenth  volume,  are  the  names  of  more  than  a  hundred  writers  known  to  fame 


*  From  Philostratus.  M^  t^^  albou  tw  lvK6'Kta,  aWa  ocuvivov  tu>  hoijii^-  koI  yap 
vf(ap  naai  irpdKurai,  Kai  irvp  oii;^'  ii>6s,  xal  aarpa  ndiruv  Kai  b  ^Xioj  irjudoios  Beif-  Epist. 
Ixix.     (Opera.  FoL  Olearii.  1709.  p.  04S.)        *  * 


374  THE  VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

And  modest  is  he.     Who  can  be  so  more  ? 


in  the  United  States,  as  well  as  in  Europe,  including  most  of  our  popularnatlve,and 
many  eminent  foreign,  authors.  Among  these  original  contributors  are  the  follow- 
ing names,  taken  almost  at  random.  *  #  #  «  * 

"  We  can  call  to  mind  several  writers  who  are  not  even  mentioned  in  the  list  to 
which  we  have  referred,  large  and  distinguished  as  it  is,  who  have  established  a  wide 
and  deserved  celebrity,  as  contributors  to  the  Knickerbocker  —  such  as  the  author, 
etc.  etc.  The  engravings  of  the  Knickerbocker,  although  scarcely  alluded  to  by  the 
proprietors,  having  never  been  promised  but  gratuitously  given,  are  worthy  of  par- 
ticular mention.  Some  of  these  —  the  '  Scene  on  the  Hudson,'  for  example,  by  that 
gifted  artist  Smillie — has  never  been  surpassed  in  this  country.  We  remember 
also,  three  or  four  well,  f<c.  #<c.  We  should  not  omit  to  mention  the  critical  de- 
partment, which  is  altogether  in  keeping  with  the  high  character  of  the  work,e^c.  The 
excellence  of  material,  and  the  neatness  and  beauty  of  the  typographical  execution 
of  the  Knickerbocker,  are  too  well  known  to  require,  etc.  Withodt  derogating, 
therefore,  from  the  high  claims  of  many  of  its  cotemporaries,  we  give  it  as  our  de- 
liberate opinion  that  the  Knickerbocker  is  one  of  the  best  periodicals  in  America, 
and  deserves  the  wide  circulation  which  it  has  acquired,  not  only  in  this  city,  where 
it  is  more  generally  diffused  than  any  of  its  cotemporaries,  but  doubtless  throughout 
the  United  Slates — since  the  strongest  recommendations  of  the  work,  from  the 
most  discriminating  sources,  have  for  a  long  time  reached  us,  [here  the  cat  iims  let 
outxi/the  bag,]  not  only  from  every  quarter  of  the  Union,  but  the  British  provinces, 
and  in  several  instances,  from  distinguished  journals  abroad." 

The  author  of  the  "  Tales  and  Sketches,"  of  the  "  Letter  on  Animal 
Magnetism,"  and  of  the  "Visit  to  Montreal,"  has  an  honorable  place,  it 
will  be  seen,  among  such  names  as  Mr.  Campbell,  and  Mr.  Bulwer. 

971.  27ie  messing-mate  of  princes — ]  The  editor  of  the  N.  Y.  Comm. 
Advertiser  devoted  three  several  days  to  three  several  accounts  of  a 
"yeie  "  given  by  the  Prince  de  Joinville,  to  which  he  had  the  honor  of 
being  invited  for  want  of  better  company.  We  cannot  refrain  from  giv- 
ing, from  the  last  and  longest  of  the  three  descriptions  (June  25th,  1S38), 
two  extracts,  —  one  illustrative  of  his  cleanliness  of  taste,  the  other  of 
his  purity  of  morals. 

"Five  hundred  two-legged  featherlcss  animals,  disgusted  with  their  cream,  straw- 
berries, and  champagne,  were  bountifully  pouring  them  overboard  for  the  breakfasts 
of  the  fishes  —  while  the  other  two  hundrcd-and-odd  of  the  passengers  were  too 
weary  and  broken-spirited  to  indulge  in  the  usual  jeers  on  such  occasions,  or  to  en- 
joy the  picturesque  appearance  of  so  many  cascades." 

***** 

"  The  spacious  deck  afforded  ample  room  for  several  sets  of  cotillions,  and,  though 
keeping  at  a  respectful  distance,  we  could  not  avoid  observing  the  fact  that  there 
was  more  graceful  and  beautiful  waltzing  than  ought  ever  to  be  indulged  in  any 
country,  or  on  any  occasion.  But  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  pageant  was 
French.  Nevertheless,  we  must  ever,  and  on  all  occasions  bear  our  testimony 
against  the  lascivious  waltz,  however  beautiful  and  fascinating  in  the  eyes  of  the 
fashionable  world." 


CANTO  FOURTH.  375 

Few  men  he  christens  rogue,  no  woman  whore, 

Ver.  971.  The  messing.mate  of  princes — ]  The  editor  of  the  N.  Y. 
Comm.  Adv.  is  renowned  among  his  contemporaries  for  a  passionate  ad- 
miration of  titles,  pedigrees,  and  all  the  appurtenances  of  rank,  and  occa- 
sionally indulges  his  American  readers  Avith  such  useful  information  as 
the  following  : — 

"  '  The  rumored  marriage  of  Miss ,  the  richest  heiress  in  the  kingdom,  with  the 

grandson  of  Lord ,  is  said  to  be  off,  as  tiie  family  is  catholic,  and  the  offspring 

must  be  educated  as  Roman  Catholics,  by  marriage  settlement.' 

"  We  have  seen  this  paragraph  about  a  dozen  times,  in  as  many  different  papers  — 
affording  a  beautiful  illustration  of  the  hardihood  tcUli  which  many  editors  will  put 
forth  sayings  en  siibjecis  of  ivhich  they  knoiu  but  little  more  than  nothing.  [Good  !  ] 
The  foundation  for  the  paragraph  was  in  the  following  mysterious  announcement, 
which  went  the  rounds  of  the  London  papers  about  a  month  ago. 

"  '  The  rumored  marriage  between  the  richest  heiress  in  the  kingdom  and  the 
grandson  of  a  noble  duke,  is  said  to  be  off.  By  the  marriage  settlement  of  the  noble 
family  of  H d  all  the  boys  must  be  brought  up  and  educated  Roman  catholics.' 

"  Our  journalist,  seeing  the  H d,  could  think  of  nothing  but ,  not  know- 
ing that  Lord has  no  grandson,  and  that  there  is  no  more  Catholicism  in  the 

family  than  there  is  in  the  bishop  of  London.     The  party  alluded  to  is  Lord 

,  son  of  the  Earl  of ,  and  grandson  of  the  Duke  of ,  the   family  name 

being ;  and  the ,  at  least  this  branch  of  them,  are  catholics." 

In  the  same  paper  [June  15th,  1838)  we  have  : 

'•  We  beg  leave  to  correct  an  error  that  seems  to  be  very  general  among  our  con- 
temporaries of  tile  press,  who  will  insist  on  misspelling  the  name  of  the  young  noble- 
man who  accompanies   Sir and  Col. .     It  is  not  the  right  honorable 

,  Earl  of ,  in  Scotland,  and  Viscount of  the  United  King- 
dom, but  the  honorable  Mr. ,  eldest  son  of  the  Scottish  Earl  of /and  by 

courtesy  known  as  Lord ,  of Castle,  in  Fifeshire." 

This  certainly  must  be  very  interesting  matter  to  the  good  citizens  of 
New  York,  the  greater  part  of  whom  have  never  seen  the  books  of  the 
peerage,  baronetage,  and  tonc?e(/g-e?ii7-?/,  of  Great  Britain.  See,  too,  in 
the  paper  of  June  21st,  1838,  a  story  told  by  the  Colonel,  of  a  street-ad- 
venture in  London  ;  how  he,  the  Colonel,  picked  acquaintance  at  a  shop- 
window  in  Pall  Mall  with  a  real  duke  and  a  real  duke's  little  son ;  and 
how  the  Duke,  who  was  a  wag,  and  found  great  amusement  in  listening 
to  the  delightful  twang  and  choice  expressions  which  grace  our  literary 
newsman's  elocution,  encouraged  his  impudence,  and  permitted  him  to 
walk  beside  him  and  his  little  boy  (both  being  "  very  plainly  dressed  — 
the  father  in  frock-coat  and  white  pantaloons,  the  boy  in  velvet  round- 
about and  trowsers  of  French  drilling,")  till  they  got  actually  "  as  far  as 
Cockspur  street,"  where  they  "  parted  with  a  mutual  bow  and  good 
morning."  Could  we  be  assured  that  the  elegant  person  known  as  Col. 
Stone,  and  the  hero  RuBETA,are  really  one,  we  should  ascribe  this  hank- 


376  THE  VISION  or  hubeta. 

But  deals  his  filth  with  so  unconscious  sin, 

Our  grandams  lick  it  up  without  one  grin,  975 

ering  after  the  flesh  pots  of  Egypt  to  his  royal  origin ;  for  "  blood  will 
out,"  as  the  old  women  say.         *  * 

974  - 977.  But  deals  hisfilih  —  etc.] 

Q,uis  tulerit  Gracchos  de  scditione  querentes  ?  * 
i.  e.,  "  There  is  a  generation  that  are  pure  in  their  own  eyes,  and  yet  is 
not  washed  from  their  filthiness."  f 

This  will  do  for  text.  Now  for  the  comment.  —  The  admirable  Pe- 
TRONiDS,  in  his  honest  zeal  for  the  purity  of  young  women,  falls  foul,  as 
we  have  seen,  of  certain  novels,  which  are  a  class  of  books  that  should 
never  be  read  by  very  young  persons  of  either  sex.  Let  us  see  how 
this  conscientious  guardian  of  the  public  morals  conducts  himself  in  his 
own  journal,  which  cannot  but  be  seen  and  read  by  the  young  of  both 
sexes,  who,  from  a  natural  curiosity,  and  also  through  a  want  of  interest 
in  political  scurrility,  will  be  sure  to  select  for  perusal  all  the  records  of 
crime  and  brutality,  and  every  libidinous  anecdote,  its  columns  may  con- 
tain. Passing  over  a  passage  we  have  cut  from  "  an  amusing  article," 
to  which,  in  Robeta's  approved  style,  he  calls  attention  in  his  own  prop- 
er columns,  (N.  Y.  American,  May  26th,  1835,)  and  of  Avhich  this  is  the 
most  modest  portion  :  — 

"My  partner  never  kept  time  nor  tune  with  me.  I  am  glad  of  an  opportunity  to 
change  partners.  —  Instead  of  a  warm  bed,  I  put  her  into  a  cold  one  ;  but  if  you 
are  a  prettij  girl,  {^•c,  J  will  not  serve  yoii  so.     Yours,  ifcc.  Bob  Short:"  — 

we  come  to  the  number  for  June  13th,  1835.  Here  we  have,  on  the 
most  conspicuous  page  (the  second),  a  very  delicate  passage  from  Dean 
Swift.     Exempli  gral.: 

"I  told  his  Honor  that  nobility  among  us  was  quite  a  ditfercnt  thing  from  the 
idea  he  had  of  it ;  that  our  young  noblemen  are  bred  from  their  childhood  in  idle- 
ness and  lu.Kury  ;  that,  as  soon  as  years  will  permit,  llietj  consume  their  vigor  and  con- 
tract odious  diseases  among  **** ;  and  when,"  etc. 

This  from  one  who  has  preached  so  much  about  the  indecency  of  the 
Herald,  and  other  small  papers,  is  pretty  well.  Again,  in  a  very  improv- 
ing story  of  a  fool  and  a  kept-mistress,  (Oct.  24th,  1835,)  which  this 
judicious  gentleman  calls  an  "  exceedingly  clever  paper,"  we  have  in 
the  midst  of  "g-o^t/en-bound"  opera-glasses,  and  "  ?iosfn7-coRVES  of 
Greece,"  and  "  damp  hair  hanging  in  heavy  threads,"  this  exquisite 
passage  :  — 

"  Pray  who  can  that  be  ?  "  said  I  to  a  friend. 

"  What  a  question  ?  "  was  the  reply.  "  How  ignorant  you  are  !  Not  to  know 
her  argues  yourself  unknown.     That  is  the  splendid  JVIiss  Reay,  —  the  lV\r  friend 

'"  Juv.  ii.  24.         •  *  t  Proverbs  xx\.  12.         *  *' 


CANTU   FOURTH.  377 

And  blushing  misses  gloat  his  page  along, 
Consol'd  to  feel  the  King  can  do  no  ivrong. 

of  Lord  Sandwich,  wlio  is  he.r  protector.  He  has  given  her  ihi;  protection  that  m//- 
tures  give  to  lambs.  She  has  borne  him  two  or  three  lovely,  cherub-like  children. 
He  is  twice  her  senior  in  years,  — has  robbed  her  of  her  best  treasure,"  — etc. 

Every  one  knows  what  follows  the  unmarked  quotation  about  lambs, 
from  that  silly  play,  Pizarro  ;  it  is  quite  explanatory,  and,  we  confess, 
very  applicable  to  the  case.  But,  to  be  serious,  why  are  such  tales  rec- 
ommended to  the  notice  of  young  women  ?  The  reader  would  never 
guess  that  Petromus  has  an  answer  ready.     Hear  him,  attentively :  — 

"  Such  a  fact  [the  vast  circulation  of  newspapers  in  America]  imposes,  or 
should  impose,  upon  the  conductors  of  the  press,  a  very  deep  sense  of  the  respon- 
sibility of  their  position,  and  of  the  far-reaching  consequences  of  the  doctrines  or 
intelligence  they  may  dispense. 

"  It  is  not,  however,  so  easy  as  at  first  sight  may  seem,  to  make  up  a  newspaper, 
under  this  conscientious  sense  of  the  effects  it  is  to  produce. 

"  To  a  certain  extent  it  must  be  a  record  of  passing  events,  —  whatever  they  be, 
—  and,  unluckily,  the  worst  or  most  ludicrous  incidents  and  details  seem  to  possess 
most  attraction.  At  least,  upon  no  other  hypothesis  can  it  be  accounted  for,  that 
newspapers  generally  vie  with  each  other  in  finding  out  and  publishing  all  the 
MISUT1.5;  OF  CRIME  AND  VICE.  Horrors !  too  —  as  horrible  as  possible  —  are 
eagerly  sought  for  ;  and  yet  all  such  details  vitiate  taste  ajid  feeling,  without  impart- 
ing any  corresponding  good. 

"  So  in  the  summary  of  what  is  passing  in  other  countries.  Over  and  above  the 
ordinary  political  and  commercial  intelligence,  most  of  the  extracts  made,  relate 
rather  to  the  frivolities  of  life  than  to  its  higher  interests  or  noble  pleasures.  Yet 
a  paper  made  up  only  of  moral  lessons,  in  its  miscellaneous  department,  would  be 
praised,  —  and  starved. 

"  There  is,  unquestionably,  great  room  for  improvement  in  most  of  our  newspa- 
pers ;  and  it  is  in  large  cities,  and  with  papers  of  vast  circulation,  like  the  Courier, 
that  this  improvement  may  best  begin.  A  paper  of  small  circulation  cannot  venture 
upon  the  independence,  which  rather  gives,  than  follows,  the  lead  of  public  opinion, 

an  independ°nce  which  a  paper  with  such  circulation  as  the  Courier,  possesses 

so  completely. 

"  A  paper  thus  situated,  may  follow  the  dictates  of  right  with  the  perfect  assurance, 
that,  among  its  many  thousands  of  readers,  it  cannot  thwart  the  interests  or  designs 
of  any  such  number  as  to  hazard  its  own  prosperity."     (July  19th,  1833.) 

This  is  ab  >ut  as  good  an  argument  for  doing  wrong  as  a  bawd  might 
advance,  that  if  she,  honest  creature  !  did  not  keep  a  brothel  others 
would,  and  that  it  was  her  only  livelihood.  But  hear  hira  again.  A  subscriber 
havino-  rated  him  pretty  roundly  for  publishing  some  beastly  anecdotes  of 
the  mistresses  of  George  the  First,  Petronius,  after  denying,  either  very 
ignorantly  or  very  impudently,  that  there  was  any  thing  tlierein  "  to  ad- 
minister to,  or  provoke,  impure  feelings,"  goes  on  to  say,  (June  '■26th, 
1837,)  — 

48 


378  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Hence,  though  he  prints  Horne's  good  advice  in  full, 
The  devil  a  bit  he  helps  to  make  your  trull  ; 


"  All  that,  —  without  entirely  losing  the  character  of  a  newspaper,  wliich  is  only 
another  word  for  a  daily  record  of  the  affairs  of  the  world,  a  brief  epitome  of  the 
history  of  man,  his  virtues,  his  follies,  and  his  crimes,  —  we  can  [his  own  Ualiciz- 
ing,  not  ours]  exclude  from  our  columns,  of  reference  to  vice,  whether  in  high  or 
low  places,  we  strive  habitually  to  do." 

Now,  as  we  shall  presently  show,  there  is  not  an  act  of  rape,  or  incest, 
or  bestiality,  that  finds  admittance  to  iiis  columns,  (and  he  publishes  all 
that  are  novel,  with  many  of  older  date,)  but  what  he  could  exclude, 
simply  by  letting  alone  his  scissors  ;  for  they  art  all  of  them  seUclions 
from  other  papers,  gathered  from  all  parts  of  the  Unitkd  States,  as  well 
as  from  foreign  countries.  These  instances  principally  are  "  daily  rec- 
ords "  of  ■yi'ce  in  low  places  ■■  for  the  "  high"  take  the  following  ",  record," 
from  his  paper  of  Thursday,  Aug.  25th,  1836. 

"  Ankcdote  of  Cardinal  Richelieu.  —  This  famous  minister,  and  prince 
of  the  holy  Catholic  and  Apostolic  church,  openly  affected  intrigues  of  gallantry  at 
court,  with  the  airs  of  '  a  plumed  cavalier,'  and  went  out  disguised  as  a  layman  in 
quest  of  nocturnal  adventures  in  the  purlieus  of  the  capital.  At  one  moment  he 
was  dallying  with  the  famous  courtesan,  Marion  de  Lorme,  —  at  another  he  was 
making  gallant  advances  to  Anne  of  Austria,  for  securing  the  succession  to  tlie 
Crown.  Brienne  relates  the  following  scene  between  the  Queen  and  the  Cardinal, 
—  it  is  an  historical  curiosity  : — 'The  Cardinal,  (says  he,)  was  desperately  in  love 
with  a  great  princess,  and  made  no  secret  of  it ;  respect  for  her  memory  forbids  me 
to  name  her.  Son  Eminence  voulut  mettre  une  terme  a  sa  sterilite, — 
mais  on  I'en  remercia  civilenie7it." 

We  could  go  on  to  give  instance  after  instance,  where  this  nice  per- 
son has  selected  dirtiness  of  all  kinds,  for  the  gratification  of  his  juve- 
nile readers ;  how  even  other  animals  besides  man  come  in  for  their  siiare 
of  filthy  commemoration,  —  as,  for  one  example,  the  extract  made  for 
the  special  use  of  the  ladies,  (Dec.  ]3th,  1837,)  from  the  London  Chron- 
icle, showing  the  powers,  and  the  want  of  power,  of  certain  heroes  of 
the  king's  stud,  —  how  — 

'•  \Vhen  the  Colonel  was  purchased  by  George  IV.,  for  four  thousand  guineas,  he 
was  then  a  race-horse  of  the  first  class  ;  but  as  a  stallion,  though  he  has  «•*'*•» 
some  of  the  finest  mares  in  the  kingdom,  he  has  yet  produced  no  race-horse  of 
high  value  : '' 

which  "  record  "  had  the  honor  of  appearing  in  the  same  paper  with 
the  story  of  a  rape,  and  a  day  or  two  after  the  "  record  "  of  a  rape  com- 
mitted by  a  man  upon  his  own  daughter:  all  of  which  records  have  a 
wonderful  effect  in  expanding  the  young  idea.  We  could  go  on,  we 
say,  to  make  our  volume  perfectly  redolent  with  filth,  but  thus  much 
shall  suffice  in  justification  of  the  lines  of  our  text.    We  are  only  sorry, 


CANTO   FOURTH.  379 

And,  if  he  clips  the  worst  from  Crayoi\^s  best,      98o 
His  paper  sanctifies  the  greasy  jest, 


that  the  object  of  our  poem  obliges  us  to  add  what  follows,  of  the  same 
kind,  in  the  subsequent  notes. 

978,979.  Hence,  thoush  he  prints  —  etc.]  — "  Ghitto  sorbere  salivam 
Mercurialem"  *  the  Author  has  already  shown  to  be  one  of  the  dainty 
and  daily  employments  of  Petromus. —  I  hope  that  this  pains  will  not 
be  altogether  ineffectual,  but  that  the  sense  of  the  community,  awakened 
to  the  beastliness  of  these  editors,  will  compel  them  all  to  reject  for  ever 
such  indecent  notices,  which  disseminate  corruption  more  ividtly  Ihan  any 
one  other  cause  J  know  of.  Nor  need  the  "  unfortunate,"  or  "  the  Unfortu- 
nate's Friend,"  suffer  by  the  restriction :  not  the  crow  and  carrion  more 
surely  come  together,  than  will  these  filthy  mountebanks  and  their 
wretched  victims.         *  * 

980,981.  And,  if  he  clips  the  worst  from  Craton''s  best, — His  paper  sanc- 
tifies the  greasy  jest,]  In  his  "  review  "  of  the  "  Beauties  of  Washing- 
ton Irving,"  which  appeared  in  September,  1835,  our  newsman  made  the 
following  selection  for  the  ladies,  out  of  the  whole  volume,  (a  volume  of 
selections,)  pitiiily  terming  it  a  "  a  little  Shandyan."  We  insert  the  pas- 
sage entire,  because  of  certain  remarks  with  which  we  shall  fol- 
low it. 

"The  Waltz.  —  As  many  of  the  retired  matrons  of  this  city  unskilled  in 
'  gestic  lore/  are  doubtless  ignorant  of  the  movements  and  figures  of  this  modest 
exhibition,  I  will  endeavor  to  give  some  account  of  it,  in  order  that  they  may  learn 
what  odd  capers  their  daughters  sometimes  cut  when  from  under  their  guardian 
wings.  On  a  signal  being  given  by  the  music,  the  gentleman  seizes  the  lady  round 
her  waist;  the  lady,  scorning  to  be  out-done  in  courtesy,  very  politely  takes  the 
gentleman  round  the  neck,  with  one  arm  resting  against  his  shoulder  to  prevent  en- 
croachments. Away  then  they  go,  about,  and  about,  and  about,  — '  About  what, 
sir?  '  —  About  the  room,  madam,  to  be  sure.  The  whole  economy  of  this  dance 
consists  in  turning  round  and  round  the  room  in  a  certain  measured  step,  and  it  is 
truly  astonishing  that  this  continued  revolution  does  not  set  all  their  heads  swim- 
ming like  a  top  ;  but  I  have  been  positively  assured  that  it  only  occasions  a  gentle 
sensation  luhich.  is  marvellously  agreeable.  In  the  course  of  this  circumnavigation, 
the  dancers,  in  order  to  give  the  charm  of  variety,  are  continually  changing  their 
relative  situations  ;  now  the  gentleman,  meaning  no  harm  in  the  world,  I  assure  you, 
madam,  carelessly  flings  his  arm  about  the  lady's  neck,  with  an  air  of  celestial  im- 
pudence ;  and  anon,  the  lady,  meaning  as  little  harm  as  the  gentleman,  takes  him 
round  the  waist  with  the  most  ingenious  modest  languishment,  to  the  great  delight 
of  numerous  spectators  and  amateurs,  who  generally  form   a  ring,  as  the  mob  do 

*  Pers.  v.  112. 


38U  rm:  vision  of  rubeta. 

Where  not  an  act  of  lewdness,  or  a  rape, 

But  crawls  in  edgewise,  and  takes  current  shape. 

about  a  pair  of  amazons  pulling  caps,  or  a  couple  of  fighting  rnnstiffs.  After  con- 
tinuing this  divine  interchange  of  hands,  arms,  et  cetera,  for  half  an  hour  or  so, 
the  lady  begins  to  tire,  and  '  with  eyes  upraised,'  in  most  bewitching  languor,  pe- 
titions her  partner  for  a  little  more  support.  This  is  always  given  without  hesita- 
tion. The  lady  leans  gently  on  his  shoulder,  their  arms  entwine  in  a  thousand 
seducing,  mischievous  curves,  —  don'L  be  alarmed,  madam,  —  closer  and  closer  they 
approach  each  other,  and,  in  conclusion,  the  parties  being  overcome  with  ecstatic 

fatigue,  the  lady  seems  almost  sinking  into  the  gentleman's  arms,  and  then 

'  Well  sir  !  what  then! —  Lord  !  madam,  how  should  I  know.'  " 

The  manner  and  humor  of  this  piece  being  Sterne's,  not  Mr.  Irving's, 
and  the  subject-matter  that  of  a  dozen  persons,  we  should  ask  the  editor 
of  the  American,  did  we  suppose  he  ever  knew  his  own  mind,  for  what 
purpose  he  introduced  it,  alone,  out  of  "  many  beauties,"  when  its  sole 
merit  is  the  indecency  of  its  innuendo  ? 

Et  tamen  alter, 

Si  fecisset  idem,  caderet  suhjudicc  morum.  * 

As  for  the  literary  "  beauty  "  of  "  The  Waltz,"  even  with  Petro- 
Nius  forjudge, — 

"What  woful  stuff  this  paragraph  would  be, 
In  some  starv'd  hackney'd  pamphleteer,  or  me  ! 
But  let  but  Irving  own  the  happy  lines, 
How  the  wit  brightens !  how  the  style  refines  ! 
Before  his  sacred  name  flies  every  fault, 
And  each  exalted  sentence  teems  with  thought."  f 
And  now,  one  word  to  this  Reviewer  of  the  Week :  — 
"  Justitia,"  says  a  favorite  moral  writer,  |  —  "justitia  sine  prudentia 
multum  poterit :  sine  justitia  nihil  valebit  prudentia,"     Which,  that  you 
may  be  able  to  read  it,  we  thus  render  into  the  vernacular  tongue  :  — 
Justice,  (observe  the  word,  sir,  —  it  is  your  darling,)  jus/rce,  Sir  Editor, 
will  make  for  you  authority  and  estimation,  though  you  wrote  sillier 
tales  than  the  present  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  but  not  all  the  fawning 
which  you  lavish  on  the  compiler  of  Astoria  will  advance  you  one  jot  in 
his  good  graces,  except  you  time  it  more  felicitously. 

982,  983.  Where  not  an  act  of  lewdness,  etc.]     We  must  go  over  the 


*  Juv.  iv.  11,  12.       *  * 

t  From  the  Essay  on  Criticism,  altered  to  suit  the  occasion, 

t  Cir.  ne  Off.  ii.  9.  Pearce  •  * 


CANTO   FOURTH.  381 

Nor  is  this  all  thy  worth,  who  stand'st  confest 
A  new  Palaemon,  risen  in  the  West ;  985 


revolting  register  of  obscenities,  that  we  may  produce  that  conviction,  in 
the  minds  of  our  readers,  without  which  this  satire  were  but  an  amuse- 
ment for  an  hour. 

Let  us  take  the  extreme  dates  of  our  own  labors.  In  1F35,  in  the 
month  of  June,  the  JV.  Y.  American  goes  into  a  full  detail  of  the  philo- 
sophical experiments  of  the  Broadway-shopkeeper  of  auger-hole  infamy. 
Dec.  l'.ith,  it  relates  the  nice  attempts  of  a  Broadway-shoemaker  on  the 
chastity  of  one  of  his  customers;  the  which  our  newsman  was  so  eager 
to  publish,  that  he  did  not  even  wait  till  the  filthy  fiction  should  be  authen- 
ticated. As,  like  the  preceding  one,  the  morsel  is  of  too  high  a  flavor  for 
this  book,  we  refer  the  curious,  who  may  have  strong  stomachs,  to  the  jour- 
nal itself  Both  these  bits  of  bawdry  were  extracted,  if  we  do  not  great- 
ly mistake,  from  another  daily  paper.  Now,  as  the  nice  Petro.mus  is 
at  liberty  to  select  just  such  patches  as  he  pleases,  why  did  he  pitch  up- 
on these,  if  not  to  gratify  that  prurient  curiosity  in  his  female  readers, 
for  pampering  to  which  he  falls  foul  of  the  penny- presses  ? —  except  it 
be,  that  it  is  to  indulge  his  own  particular  predilections,  which, 
from  his  violent  condemnation  of  such  moral  fancies,  is  more  than  prob- 
able. "  Sic  alioriim  viliis  irascunhn"  says  the  younger  Pliny  of  such 
persons,  "  quasi  invideant,  et  gravissime  puniunt  quos  maxime  imilan- 
tur."  * 

To  come  down  to  the  very  time  that  our  work  is  preparing  for  the 
press,  the  spring  of  1838.  Let  us  take  the  single  month  of  May.  On  the 
11th  of  that  month,  he  gives,  under  the  head  of  "Murders  and  Suicides 
in  France^^  an  account  of  a  prisoner  who  had  been  condemned  "  to  im- 
prisonment for  five  years,  for  having  violated  the  person  of  his  own  daugh- 
ter;" immediately  under  ^yhich  is  an  account  of  a  mutilation.  On  the 
14th,  he  commemorizes,  under  a  very  attractive  head,  the  villainy  of  a 
negro,  named  Tom,  committed  upon  a  deaf  and  dumb  girl.'  On  the 
21st,  we  have  another  Broadway-shopkeeper  figuring  "  in  a  manner  too 
gross  and  indelicate  to  give  any  detail  of,"  (language,  by  the  by,  which, 
taken  in  connexion  with  the  story,  is  ten  times  worse,  for  a  youthful 
imagination,  than  the  bare  detail  would  have  been.)  May  23d,  under 
the  delicate  title  of"  An  Incident,"  we  have  a  very  charming  attempt  at 
rape,  with  full  and  instructive  particulars,  showing  the  young  ruffian  the 
way  to  manage  in  such  enterprises.  May  26th,  we  have  recounted  a  case 
of  wholesale  violation  on  shipboard.     And  May  30th,  appear  adultery, 

*  Epist.  viii.  22.     Edin.  l2mo.  1762.        *  * 


382  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Thy  papers  fill'd  with  grammar  out  of  joint, 
Essays  on  words,  and  lectures  on  a  point ; 


detection  in  the  act,  murder;  all  being  tlie  instrnctive  incidents  of  a  nice 
little  "  Domestic  Tragedy,"  so  recounted  as  to  give  every  satisfaction  to 
the  inexperienced  virgin,  without  shocking  her  delicacy  by  a  single  nas- 
ty word.     All  these,  too,  are  ''  elegant  extracts"  from  other  journals. 

Very  seriously,  however  such  stories  may  find  a  place  in  books,  where 
their  influence  must  be  partial,  they  cannot,  without  a  violation  of  prin- 
ciple, be  admitted  into  a  newspaper,  which  is  read  not  only  by  the  adult 
and  vitiated,  but  by  the  very  yoimg  and  (as  far  as  may  be)  very  inno- 
cent. These  latter,  especially  if  females,  will  directly  seize  upon  such 
scraps,  as  the  only  parts  of  a  newspaper  in  which  they  can  take  any  in- 
terest. At  once,  —  or,  if  you  please,  by  degrees,  but  yet  unfailingly, — 
they  are  initiated  into  a  knowledge,  of  which  they  would  be  blest  indeed, 
could  they,  like  DESoEMOjiA,  continue  ignorant  all  their  life.  And  now 
the  seed  is  sown:  eradicate  its  product,  if  you  can.  You  may  sooner 
root  up  an  oak  with  your  fingers  !  Nay,  you  cannot  grow  it  over,  so  to 
speak,  by  aught  that  you  may  subsequently  set  in  and  cultivate ;  for  its 
roots  are  in  the  strongest  of  the  passions,  in  the  only  one  that  is  univer- 
sal, and  its  branches  shall  spread,  day  by  day,  till  their  baneful  shadow 
shall,  more  or  less,  lie  on  every  pleasant  spot  in  the  vast  area  of  the  im- 
agination. Is  not  this  an  agreeable  reflection  for  us  who  have  sons  and 
daughters,  children  whom  we  cherish  as  the  apple  of  our  eye,  and  whom 
we  strive  to  keep  from  the  cursed  moral  taint  with  which  we  feel  our- 
selves to  be  incurably  infected  ?  And  ourselves, —  we,  of  either  sex, 
who  are  sophisticate  and  corrupted  by  the  world,  —  what  advantage  are 
we  to  derive  from  these  details  ?  for,  by  the  instinct  of  imitation,  by 
which  uniformity  is  maintained  in  the  mighty  mass  of  human  kind,  we 
cannot  look  on  evil  without  the  itch  to  participate.  When  we  read  of 
errors  to  which  our  proper  dispositions  are  prone,  we  imperceptibly  find 
therein  a  sanction  for  our  own  divergence  from  rectitude,  while  the 
crimes  to  which  these  errors  lead  we  disregard  entirely,  or,  with  a  natu- 
ral self-flattery,  consider  as  quite  impossible  in  our  special  case.  He, 
then,  whose  temper  is  amorous,  befools  himself,  if  he  think  he  reads 
these  anecdotes  of  whoredom  and  adultery  for  the  warning  of  their  ca- 
tastrophe. So  far  as  he  is  ignorant  of  his  motives,  he  is  a  fool,  and  no 
more ;  but  he  who  furnishes  the  incentive  is  a  pander  to  the  otlier's  pas- 
sions, and  knows  it  all  the  while.* 

•  An  observation  that  is  confined  to  the  dirty  sheets  at  which  the  entire  scope 
•f  these  remarks  is  directed.     In  literature  such  scenes  and  stories  must  occasion- 


CANTO  FOURTH.  383 

Where  idle  fools  their  betters  may  denounce, 
Or  beg  thy  skill  to  teach  them  to  pronounce, 
While  thine  own  grace  so  softly  shades  each  line,  ooo 
Downing  himself  might  swear  it  is  divine. 

But  where  to  pause  :  to  make  thy  worth  all  known, 
English  would  fail  us,  even  of  thy  own. 
For  art  thou  not,  —  thy  page  at  least,  —  grammati- 
cal ? 
Etymological,  precise,  and  dogmatical  ?  995 

As  we  have  elsewhere  said  in  this  volume,  the  virtue  of  one  half  of  the 
%vorld  depends  upon  its  ignorance  of  the  wickedness  of  the  other. 

986-939.  Thy  papers  JilVd,  etc.  —  Where  idle  fools,  etc.]  The  text  is 
partially  illustrated  in  one  of  the  examples  given  on  p.  313,  of  the  flat- 
tery of  Palamoti's  correspondents ;  but  the  readers  of  the  .V.  Y.  Jimeri- 
can  will  remember  how  often  they  have  been  amused  with  discussions 
on  orthography,  etymology,  syntax,  and  prosody,  in  its  columns,  where 
children,  who  have  nothing  else  to  do,  beg  to  know,  in  the  prettiest 
manner  possible,  if  such  things  are  not  so  and  so ;  when  their  literary 
papa,  stroking  down  his  chin,  pats  their  innocent  heads,  and  answers, 
Tiny  are  so,  my  dears,  or,  My  dears,  they  arc  not  so,  to  the  great  delight 
of  the  little  darlings,  who  say  to  one  another,  as  they  scamper  off,  Is7iH 
our  papa  a  great  man!         *  * 

994.  —  thy  piige  —grammatical  1?]  Almost  any  one  of  the  various  pas- 
sages we  have  cited,  for  various  exemplification,  from  the  .V.  Y.  Jimeri- 
can,  will  show  how  truly  it  merits  this  epithet;  but  it  will  be  well  to  re- 
fresh the  reader's  memory  with  one  more  specimen  that  shall  show  the 
full  extent  of  its  philological  acquirements.  It  is  itsremew^of  "  Horseshoe 
Robinson."  The  English  of  a  newspaper  is  not  in  itself  of  much  im- 
portance ;  but  when  it  is  referred  to  as  a  standard  (God  save  the  mark! ), 
and  its  pretensions  to  knowledge  in  the  matter  are  allowed,  it  becomes 
proper  to  examine  it. 

ally  have  place,  as  examples  and  as  incidents  of  the  life  of  man.  There  too  they 
form  but  a  portion  of  the  narrative,  or  an  illustration  in  the  discussion,  and  are 
dressed  perhaps  with  a  delicacy  that  gives  no  stir  to  the  senses  :  but  here  they  are 
isolated  pictures,  and  are  presented  always  in  native  nudity.  Besides,  (to  re- 
turn to  our  strongest  argument,)  poetry,  history,  and  philosophy  do  not  come 
before  the  very  young,  and  novels  should  not. 


384  THE   VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Theological,  as  well  as  political  ? 
Critical,  surely,  and  hypocritical  ? 
Pharisaical,  yet  not  less  Levitical  ? 


"In  Swal/crw  Barn  lUe  author  gave,  in  a  somewhat  disconnccteil  story,  a  scries  of 
pictures  of  Virginia  lite  —  which  presented  in  admirable  relief,  its  |)eculiarilies.  It  was 
in  this,  rather  than  in  the  interest  of  the  story  as  a  whole,  that  his  success  laid."  Etc. 
"  The  blacksmith,  Robinson,  from  whom  the  work  takes  its  name  —  Mildred  Lindsatj, 
and  her  gallant  brother,  are  finely  conceived,  and  never  falter  in  the  course  of  the 
narrative.  "  *  *  *  — "  he  has  assuredly  extracted  from  the  many  unsung,  and  unhonor- 
ed,  but  ?iot  less  daring  and  romantic  incidents  of  the  fierce  civil  war  in  the  South."  etc. 

"  Mr.  Kennedy,  for  it  is  no  secret  that  he  is  the  author,  has  abundantly  shown  in  this 
work,  how  fruitful  our  revolutionary  struggle  is,  in  incidents  which  the  pen  of  genius 
may  avail  of,  for  the  historical  romance  —  and  he  has  shown  too,  his  ability  and  fitness 
to  wield  that  pen."     June  21tli,  1835. 

In  this  correctness  and  precision  of  language  our  newsman  probably 
imitates  his  pattern,  the  JVnlional  Gazette,  which  says  of  La  Martine's 
Pilgriinnge,  —  "  The  work  is  an  expensive  one  in  Europe,  but  we  sup- 
pose ivill  be  reduced,  on  the  Waldie  principle,  to  a  moiety  of  a  dollar,"  — 
leaving  us  to  wonder  how  this  transmutation,  on  what  is  elegantly  term- 
ed the  Waldie  principle,  of  paper  and  calf-skin  into  coin  is  to  be 
effected. 

993.  Etymological — ] 

"  By  the  bye,  we  wish  the  English  had  arranged  to  give  to  their  young  Queen  an 
English  name  —  Victoria  is  well  enough  for  a  line  of  battle  ship  —  or  for  a  fancy  name 
—  but  homely  Elizabeth,  or  Ann,  or  Mary,  would  sound  better  to  Anglo-Saxon  ears." 

[.V.  F.  .4m.  July  26ih,  1838.] 

What  a  pity  it  had  not  been  recommended  to  her  youthful  majesty  ! 
Perhaps  the  recommendation,  coming  from  a  person  of  our  newsman's 
well-known  taste  and  sacred  love  of  English,  might  have  prevailed. 
But  we  are  afraid,  dear  Petronic  s,  that  the  ears  you  speak  of  are  some- 
what Nonnan  too ;  and  there  might  be  wicked  men  to  tell  you,  that 
homely  Elizabeth,  or  Jinn,  or  Mary,  is  quite  as  much  French  as  Anglo- 
Saxon,  though  we  all  know  that  the  New  Testament  was  originally 
written  in  this  latter  tongue. 

996.  TVieological  — ]  Piety  is  a  profitable  investment  for  the  newspa- 
pers, and  Petronius  has  not  failed  to  take  his  share  of  the  stock,  —  reli- 
gious notices  being  important  items  in  the  advertising  list.         *  * 

76.  — political?]  In  which  character,  whether  through  the  boyish 
impetuosity  of  his  temper,  which  makes  him  blind  to  consequences,  or 
through  his  paltry  maliciousness  and  womanish  spite,  which  bid  liim  dis- 
regard them,  (for  it  is  hard  to  say  if  boy  or  girl  be  more  predominant  in 
his  composition,)  he  forgets  his  duty  as  a  citizen  of  the  United  States 


CANTO   FOURTH.  385 

Logical,  ethical,  even  forensical  ? 
Poljtechnical,  and  very  nonsensical  ?  looo 

Comic  and  tragic,  epic,  melodramatic, 
VaudevilUstic,  more  than  all  operatic  ? 


most  shamefully,  and  lends  his  aid  to  foster  sectional  prejudices.  Take 
the  following  specimen,  among  the  many  taunts  which  this  man  is  con- 
stantly flinging  out  against  the  south,  because  his  subscription-list  looks 
solely  to  the  north  and  he  knows,  as  well  as  I  do,  that  the  feelings  of 
jealousy  between  the  Nortliern  and  the  Southern  States  of  the  Union  are 
as  strong  as  prevail,  at  this  day,  between  England  and  France.  I  know 
very  Avell  what  I  am  saying,  and  do  not  look  to  be  contradicted. 

"The  Big  Ship.  —  It  beinp^  understood  that  the  U.  S.  Ship  Pennsijlrania,  after 
being  launciied  at  Philadelphia,  was  to  be  sent  round  to  Norfolk,  Va.  to  be  coppered 
and  equipped,  the  citizens  of  Philadelphia  and  the  delegates  from  the  city  and  country 
to  the  (/onvention,  have  addressed  a  memorial  to  the  President,  requesting  that  this 
Monster  of  the  Deep  may  be  completed  where  she  was  built  —  and  where,  unquestion- 
ably, workmen  are  at  least  as  good,  though  not  of  as  dark  complexion,  [his  own 
Italics],  as  those  at  Norfolk,  can  be  procured." 

"  Possibly,  however,  Mr.  President  may  desire  —  by  showing  his  preference  to  slave 
labor  over  that  of  while  freemen,  especially  when  those  freemen  have  so  recently  rebel- 
led against  the  spoils  party  as  to  reject  C  I.  Ingersoll  as  their  representative  in  Con- 
gress,—  at  once  to  conciliate  Virginia  and  punish  Pennsylvania.     We  shall  see." 

[N.  Y.  Am.inXy  II th,  1837. 

If  a  day  should  come  (which  God,  in  his  mercy,  avert !)  when  the 
Union  shall  be  broken  up,  and  State  shall  be  divided  against  State, 
that  day  shall  we  owe  to  Petronius  and  his  brethren.* 

1002.  VaudevilUstic  —  ]  See,  in  his  journal,  the  daily  notices  ("un- 
paid for,  we  presume  —  as  they  come  not  in  the  shape  of  an  adver- 
tisement," f)  of  NiBLo's   Vaudevilles. 


*  Chiefly,  but  not  wholly.  Even  so  respectable  a  man  as  Ex-president  Adams 
we  find  forgetting  himself  in  the  violence  of  party-spirit.  Witness  the  letter  which 
the  venerable  senator  addressed  to  his  constituents  in  this  Stale,  Aug.  13th,  1838; 
where,  among  other  foolish  taunts,  we  find  the  following  :  —  "  the  fatal  duel  —  where 
fell  another  northern  victim,  self-immolated  to  the  peculiar  institutions  of  the  South  " 
[so  printed]  :  an  assertion,  not  only  ungenerous,  but  unjust.        *  * 

t  Petronius's  own  insinuation  against  Rubeta  :  see  p.  293,  in  the  notes.  The 
source  of  his  knowledge,  or  of  his  suspicions  of  his  fellow-newsman's  motives,  is  very 
evident.        *  * 

49 


386  I'tli:    VISION   OF   RUBETA. 

Domestic,  yet  fill'd  up  with  matters  extraneous, 

No  couple  of  columns,  of  all,  consentaneous, 

A  rajrwoman's  bas;  even  less  miscellaneous  f  1005 

Time  fails  us  half  thy  forces  to  review, 

Thou  double-ramm'd  Boeotian  !     Here,  adieu  ! 

Except  thou  live  to  choke  thyself  with  spite. 

Thy  fate  from  singing-girls  I  read  aright. 

Sound,  flute  and  fiddle  !  lo,  Petronius  dead  !       loio 

The  Frenchman's  quibble  wafer'd  o'er  his  head. 

Prick'd  out  in  notes,  the  syllables  declare, 

A  Mi-re  of  the  noddle  stuck  him  there. 

And  now  for  thee,  MARGITES  !  double  ass  ! 
Stand   up,   thou   drudge  !    that  jades  may  see    thee 
pass,  1015 


Ver.  1009.  Thy  fate  from  singing-gvis  I  read  aright.]  Poets  have  always 
enjoyed  the  prerogative  of  prophecy.  As  to  the  singing-girls,  see  v. 
785.         *  * 

1010  —  1013.  —  lo,  Petronius  dead !  —  The  Fsenchman^s  quibble,  etc.] 
"  The  heir  of  the  Duke  de  Penthievre  died  in  1764,  a  victim  to  his  irreg- 
ularities, and  particularly  to  his  attachment  to  Mdlle.  Miri,  a  lady  emi- 
nent for  her  musical  talents.     The  Parisian  wits,  who  laugh  at  every 
thing,  made  the  following  very   ingenious  epitaph,   composed   of  five 
musical  notes,  which  are  supposed  to  be  engraven  on  his  tomb : 
"Mi  Re  La  Mi  La.*"     Percy  Anecd.  — Humor. 
1011.  — loafer'' do''er  his  head.]     In  the  manner  of  a  bulletin.        *  * 
1014.  — MARGITES ! — ]     There   was  a  satirical  poem,  attributed 


*  Miri  put  him  there  (Mire  I'a  mis  la).         *  * 

There  was  at  least  some  substance  in  this  sort  of  Miri :  but  Petronius  is  really 
to  be  pitied,  in  being  doomed  to  die  for  a  mere  Mire  of  the  brain  ;  for  undoubtedly  the 
Poet's  prophecy  will  be  accomplished,  except,  as  intimated,  a  previous  dissolution  h  la 
grenouiile  should  render  it  nugatory.        *  " 


CANTO  FOURTH.  387 

Who,  doing  more  tliaii  other  asses  do, 
Bear'st  thine  own  pannier  and  thy  fellows'  too ! 
How  shall  I  picture  thee  ?  thy  praise  to  sing 
Would    need    Stone's    blackguard  and  the  cant  of 

King. 
Pull  up  the  weeds  that  skirt  some  loathsome  ditch ;  1020 
Build  thence  an  altar ;  smear  it  o'er  with  pitch  ; 
The  base  be  mud,  or  ordure ;  and  thereon 
Lay  offal  thick,  to  shrivel  in  the  sun  : 
Its  wholesome  reek  burnt  frankincense  shall  be. 
Most  meet  for  infamy,  and  worthy  thee.  1025 

Thee  ?     Out !  thy  very  name  defiles  my  text. 
Bring  water,  boy.     Now,  pass  on  to  the  next. 

to  Homer,  which  went  by  this  name,  from  the  name  of  the  person 
against  whom  it  was  written.  Some  writers,  among  whom  is  Aris- 
totle, regarded  it  as  a  genuine  production  of  the  author  of  the  Iliad. 
See  Sect.  7  and  8  of  Tyrwhitt's  edition  of  the  Poetic  (Cap.  iv.  of 
Cooke);  also  Tyrwhitt's  note  upon  Sect.  7.         ** 

Ib.  —  MARGITES!—]  Of  this  dirty  fellow  we  will  merely  take 
the  pains  to  say,  that  he  is  editor  of  Waldie''s  Journal  of  Belles  Leitres, 
which  he  manages  with  the  dashing  grace  of  Mrs.  FREKE.f  He  has  a 
fellow-feeling  for  the  editor  of  the  JV*.  Y.  Commercial  Advertiser,  and 
cites  his  literary  opinions  with  great  approbation ;  which  is  alluded  to 
in  the  subsequent  lines.  Of  his  graces  of  diction  it  is  sufficient  to  give 
tliis  one  sample,  from  his  abuse  of  the  Yemassee:  —  "Why  should  we 
attempt  the  grand  fiddlestick  in  our  plain  republican  corn-stalk  ?  " 

tin  Miss  EnoEWORTn's  Belinda,  where  the  lady  is  described  "exclaiming,  as 
she  reviewed  each  of  the  books  on  the  table  in  their  turns,  in  the  summary  language 
of  presumptuous  ignorance  :  — '  Smith's  Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments  ;  —  milk  and 
water !     Moore's  Travels  j  —  hasty  pudding !     La  Bruyere  3  —  nettle  porridge  ! ' " 


388  THE  VISION  of  rubeta. 

Lo,  where  he  comes !  a  dwarf  in  form  and  mind  ; 
Party's  base  tool,  — dull,  ignorant,  and  blind. 
Scduc'd  to  any  lie  bj  any  bribe,  1030 

The  dirtiest  mongrel  of  the  scribbling  tribe. 
Enough  is  envy  Pupa  to  inspire, 
To  act  what  other  newsmen  do  for  hire. 
Yet,  even  had  he  sworn  that  white  was  black, 
Should  some  new  int'rest  call  dull  Pupa  back,       i035 
Pupa,  kind  soul !  would  do  you  more  than  right. 
And  swear,  by    Heav'n   and    Hell,   that  black  was 

white. 
For  such  a  slave,  what  words  could  be  too  gross  ? 
On  such  a  fool,  what  words  were  more  than  loss? 
Pass,  driv'ller,  then  !    thank  Heav'n  thou  'rt  less 

than  mean,  1040 

Epitome  of  folly,  falsehood,  spleen  ; 
For  thus,  as  thou  art  shown  too  foul  for  verse, 
Too  cheap,  almost,  for  satire  to  asperse, 

Ver.  1028-1037.  —  Lo,  where  he  comes!  etc.]  This  exalted  character 
would  appear  to  apply  to  the  eminent  person  who  wrote  the  first  of  the 
two  "  Recommendations "  which,  that  honesty  and  wisdom  may  have 
their  full  effect,  we  have  hastened  to  prefix  to  this  new  issue  of  the  first 
edition  of  our  author's  serious  poem.  In  the  margin  of  the  manuscript 
is  found  the  following  epigram,  which,  we  suppose,  was  intended  as 
a  new-year's  gift  to  the  same  high  character: — 

Thou  four-foot  fool !   short  thing  of  lath  ! 
Begone  !  crawl  swiftly  from  my  path ! 
'T  were  right  to  strip  thee  of  thy  breeches  ; 
But  there  's  a  proverb  tells  what  pitch  is. 


CANTO   FOURTH.  389 

The  Muse,  in  pity  of  so  poor  an  ass, 

But  flogs  thee  on  one  side  ;  —  pass,  driv'ller,  pass  !  1045 

Pass,  but  beware  !  nor  wake  again  her  pride  ! 

The  lash  shall  whistle  round  thy  fenceless  hide, 

Till  ev'n  thy  lord,  a  duller  beast  than  thou, 

Shall  blush  thy  dirty  service  to  avow, 

1048.  —  thy  lord,  a  duller  least  than  tlton,]  If  we  are  right  in  our 
conjecture  respecting  Pupa,  then  Jiis  "  lord  "  must  be  the  fat  gentleman 
who  conducts  the  truly  modest  journal  -which  little  Pupa  is  employed  to 
make  veridical.  How  well  the  compliment  in  the  text  is  merited,  will 
appear  from  the  following  exquisite  display  of  unassuming  judgment 
and  critical  sagacity.  It  is  taken  from  the  Courier  and  Enquirer  of 
December  20th,  1838. 

"  Vetasco.  —  We  have  heretofore  mentioned,  that  the  manager  of  the  Park  The- 
atre, with  the  permission  of  the  author,  Mr.  Epes  Sargent,  intends  bringing  out 
at  his  theatre,  this  evening,  this  beautiful  and  successful  [!]  tragedy.  When  Velasco 
was  first  issued  from  the  press,  we  contented  ourselves  with  simply  announcing  its 
publication,  under  a  full  conviction  that  its  intrinsic  merits  would  soon  irork  its  way 
to  public  favor.  We  deemed  the  course  the  more  proper,  in  consequence  of  the 
author's  Brother  [that  "s  little  Pupa  ?]  being  associated  with  us  in  our  editorial  duties, 
and  from  an  appreliension  that  a  favorable  notice  in  tlie  Courier  and  Enquirer, 
might,  under  the  circumstances,  be  attributed  to  motives  of  friendship,  rather  than 
a  conviction  of  the  merits  of  the  tragedy.  But  now,  tliat  the  press  has  everywhere 
borne  testimony  to  the  high  order  of  intellect  evinced  in  this  work,  and  that  the 
opinion  of  the  literary  public  has  been  universally  [Wl  expressed  in  its  favor,  vre 
take  pleasure  in  recording  our  high  estimation  of  this  effort  of  Mr.  Sargent,  and 
of  the  great  promise  he  exhibits  of  still  greater  excellence  in  this  most  difficult 
path  of  literature. 

"As  an  act  of  justice  to  Mr.  Sargent,  and  to  enable  our  readers  to  judge  for 
themselves  of  the  merits  of  Velasco,  we  make  room  for  a  few  extracts  from  the 
tragedy.     [Prepare  your  handkerchiefs,  little  girls.] 

"Extracts  from  Act  IV.  Scene  I. 
"  Velasco.    Thou  hast  heard  all  which  can  extenuate 
The  perpetration  of  the  deed  we  mourn  : 
Oh  !  wilt  thou  not  believe  that  when  mine  arm 
Was  raised  to  strike,  my  heart  teas  torn  with  anguish  ? 
That  I  did  love  thee  better  at  that  moment, 
While  severing  the  tie  between  our  fates, 
'Than  when  exulting  hope  was  all  my  own? 


390  THE  VISION  OF   RUBETA. 

And  drive  thee  fortli,  thy  filthiiiess  made  known,  io50 
To  ])rowse  on  other  thistles  than  his  own. 

These  are  the  chief.     The  rest  to  laud  were  vain, 
Souls  of  one  cartli,  tliat  differ  not  a  grain. 
Take  from  each  hero,  whom  the  Vision  sings, 
The  part  that  raises  him  o'er  common  things,        1055 

tzidora.  —  Call  it  not  love,  Velasco ;  hadst  thou  loved, 
Thou  sooner  wouldst  have  died  a  death  of  shame 
Than  brought  this  weight  of  misery  upon  me. 

Velasco.  —  Oh !  [He  's  a  great  fellow  for  Ohing,  this  Velasco.] 
Oh!  sound  the  dreary  depth  of  my  despair, 
Then,  if  thou  canst,  measure  my  boundless  love. 

Izidora.  —  Call'st  thou  that  love  tvhich  pride  can  subjugate  ? 
Which  can  be  quell'd  by  what  the  world  call  honor, 
Or  biade  to  yield  even  by  filial  duty  ?     [Here  's  a  rare  wench 

for  you  !] 
No  !  to  all  these,  true  love  is  paramount ! 

Velasco.  —  Oh.'  my  fair  name  had  been  for  ever  lost, 
If  I  had  tamely  borne  the  unmeasured  insult." 

There  follow,  in  the  paper,  some  fifty  or  sixty  verses  more  of  this 
sensible  and  poetical  dialogue  ;  all  of  which,  we  take  pleasure  in  saying, 
show  such  a  fertility  of  imagination,  comprehension  of  tiiought,  and 
harmony  of  diction,  as  justly  entitle  their  author  to  the  praises  of  two 
such  men  as  Pupa  and  Pupa's  master,  and  maiie  him  worthy  of  forming 
one  of  a  trio  which  is  surely  such  as  only  an  African  free-school  could 
furnish.  Then  the  intelligent  editor  goes  on  to  add  "passages,"  "select- 
ed at  random  [as  he  charmingly  says]  from  different  scenes,"  of  which 
the  following  sample,  the  shortest,  must  satisfy  the  reader :  — 

"Time. 
"  Julio.  —  Oh  !  let  not  that  assure  thee.    Time,  my  sister, 
Is  not  content  witli  marring  outward  charms  5 
His  deepening  furrows  reach  the  spirit's  core. 
They  spoil  the  soul  of  many  an  airy  grace  — 
Hope's  gilded  temples  sink  beneath  his  touch} 
Joy's  buds  of  promise  wither  at  his  frown  !  " 

We  had  thought,  witli  the  son  of  Bathsheba,  that  but  little  new  was 
to  be  learned  in  the  moral  of  tliis  life ;  but  wlio  shall  say,  hereafter,  that 


CANTO  FOURTH.  389* 

False  Pupa's  tongue,  Petronius'  childish  spleen, 
Rubeta's  brain,  Margites'  heart  obscene  ; 
All  these,  —  or  any  one,  —  or  two,  —  or  three, — 
Make  up  some  trait,  wherein  the  mass  agree. 
Fool,  scoundrel,  liar,  are  but  sorry  phrases,  lOGO 

Yet  show  your  newsmen  off  in  all  their  phases. 
Nay  !  this  is  scandal.  —  Say  so.     I  rejoin  :  — 
'T  is  their  own  deeds  that  damn  them,  and  not  mine. 

any  limit  can  be  set  to  human  discovery  ?  The  novelty  and  depth  of 
the  preceding  sentiment,  joined  to  the  perfect  newness  of  the  expression 
and  the  splendor  of  the  embellishment,  are  quite  enough  to  convince  us, 
that  there  is  no  frog  so  far  down  natant  in  a  certain  well,  but  some  one's 
bucket  may  reach  his  hind-leg,  nor  any  axiom  so  stale,  but  a  charming 
puerility  may  make  it  fresh  again,  and  as  dazzling  as  an  old  duenna  in 
the  cast-off  finery  of  her  mistress.  Solomon  !  Solomon  !  why  should 
we  esteem  thee  ?  Why  are  thy  proverbs  more  enduring  than  the 
stones  of  the  temple  of  Jerusalem  ? 

Reader!  compare  the  above  "extracts"  with  those  from  another 
tragedy,  on  pages  356  —  359,  and  see  how  inferior  are  the  tenderness, 
the  originality,  the  perspicuity,  the  mingled  strength  and  sweetness  of 
the  latter,  nor  longer  wonder  that  Bianca  should  have  had  but  one  poor 
newspaper  to  announce  her  fitly,  and  one  man  of  sense  to  do  her  justice, 
while  Velasco  has  had  the  whole  press  jubilant  to  go  before  him,  and  a 
hundred  fools  crying  after.  *  * 

Conclusion.]  It  is  with  great  reluctance  that  the  Author  consigns  to 
the  public  his  poem  in  an  unfinished  state ;  but  accidental  causes,  at 
various  intervals,  have  so  retarded  the  completion  of  these  four  Cantos, 
that  the  subject  of  the  episode,  which  forms  so  large  a  portion  of  them, 
would  lose  much  of  its  interest  by  further  delay.  This  alone  were  not 
sufiicient  to  persuade  to  present  publication,  but  other  reasons,  that 
concern  not  the  public,  have  added  their  urgency  with  a  momentum  it 
would  be  difficult  to  resist.  He  therefore  submits  the  poem  in  all  its 
deficiencies,  with  a  gentle  hint,  that  those  persons  who  shall  show 
themselves  dissatisfied,  at  wanting  a  place  in  the  present  volume,  shall 


390*  THE  VISION  OF  RUBETA. 

Peruse  their  sheets  :  if  found  I  justly  rail, 
Laugh,  scorn,  and  hate  with  me.     Now,  mark  my 
tale  !  10G5 

be  accommodated,  like  Pupa  and  Pupa's  patron,  to  their  heart's  con- 
tent, in  the  next. 

■  "  By  and  by, 

My  gentle  countrymen,  we  will  renew 

Our  old  acquaintance  ;  and  at  least  I  '11  try 
To  tell  you  truths  you  will  not  take  as  true, 

Because  they  are  so.     A  male  Mrs.  Fry, 
With  a  soft  besom  will  I  sweep  your  halls, 

And  brush  a  Jf'ebb  or  two  from  off  the  walls."  * 


Don  Juan,  Canto  x.  84. 


#  # 


APPENDIX. 

[BEING   A  CONTINUATION   OF  THE   AUTHOR'S   NOTE 
ON   PAGE  263.] 


WILLIAM    WORDSWORTH, 

HIS  POETRY,  AND  HIS  MISREPRESENTATIONS. 

Ipse  facit  versus,  alque  uiii  cedit  Homero 
Propter  niiJle  annos.     Juv.  vii.  38,  39.         *  * 

I  CANNOT  here  enter  into  an  argument,  to  show,  what  I  am 
sorry  to  say  the  age  appears  too  timid  to  discover  for  itself, 
the  utter  absurdity  of  that  most  ignorant  and  presumptuous 
innovator,  the  man  who  has  dared  singly  to  break  through  the 
structure  cemented  by  the  labors  of  near  three  thousand  years, 
and,  placing  himself  in  the  gap,  cry  out  to  the  present  genera- 
tion to  admire  the  prospect  opened  through  the  broad  vacuity. 
If  God  should  be  pleased  to  spare  my  life  yet  a  few  years  long- 
er, I  may  devote  a  portion  of  another  work  to  this  object,  and 
vindicate  at  large  the  genius  of  Pope.  At  present  I  will  merely 
so  far  discuss  the  matter  as  shall  be  necessary  to  justify  my 
own  text. 

Let  us  observe,  then,  that  tedious  and  contradictory  Preface, 
which  evinces  its  author  to  be  almost  as  incapable  of  writing  pure 
and  perspicuous  prose,  as  he  was,  till  Byron  taught  him,*  of 

*  In  the  poems  published  in  1820-1822,  Mr.  Wordsworth,  departing  com- 
pletely from  his  own  rules,  or  rather  no-rules,  has  profited  by  the  muse  of 
one  who  scorned  him  as  a  poet.     For  example  :  — 

"  Fancy  hath  fluug  for  me  an  airy  bridge 
Across  thy  long,  deep  valley,  furious  Rhone  ! 
Arch  that  here  rests  upon  the  granite  ridge 
Of  Monte  Rosa  —  there,  on  frailer  stone 
Of  secondary  birth  —  the  Jung-frau's  cone  ; 


39'i  WILLIAM   WORDSWORTH. 

inditing  tolerable  verse.  Passing  over  a  passage  where  Mr. 
WoHuswouTH  has  dared  to  compare  himself  to  Milton,* 
whom  he  calls  (though  in  absolute  contradiction  of  his  own  doc- 
trines) a  "truly  divine  poet,"  we  extract  some  lines  which  he 
has  cited  as  indicative  "  of  extreme  activity  of  intellect  and  a 
corresponding  feeling." 

"  A  magazine 

Of  sovereign  juice  is  cellared  in, 


Ami,  from  that  arch  down-looking  on  the  vale, 
The  aspect  I  behold  of  every  zone ; 
A  sea  of  foliage  tossing  with  the  gale, 
Blithe  Autumn's  purple  crown,  and  Winter's  icy  mail !  " 


And:  — 


"  My  spirit  is  the  scene  of  such  wild  art 
As  on  Parnassus  rules,  when  lightning  flies. 
Visibly  leading  on  the  thunder's  harmonies." 
Desultory  Stanzas,  appended  to  the  Memorials  of  a  Tour  on  the  Continent. 

Though  we  do  not  exactly  understand  the  phrase  wild  art,  especially  as  ap- 
plied to  a  thunder-storm,  no  more  than  we  can  conceive  how  seas,  crotcns, 
and  coats  of  mall,  can  be  said  figuratively  to  exist  together  in  one  valley,  or 
how  any  one  of  these  metaphors,  except  the  last,  can  be  considered  as  de- 
scriptive of  the  peculiar  asjyect  of  any  zone,  («)  yet  the  above  twelve  verses 
convince  us  of  two  things;  first,  —  that  Mr.  Wordsworth  is,  though  a 
maligner  of  all  good  poetry,  really  something  of  a  poet;  secondly,  —  that  he 
has  by  his  own  example,  either  proved  the  falsity  of  his  own  assertions,  or 
shown  that  in  his  maturer  day  he  was  become  a  wiser  or  more  prudent  man, 
and  had  returned  to  the  bosom  of  the  poetic  faith  from  which  he  had  ridicu- 
lously apostatized. 

*  "  Awe-stricken  as  I  am  by  contemplating  the  operations  of  the  mind  of 
this  truly  divine  Poet,  I  scarcely  dare  venture  to  add,  that '  An  Address  to 
an  Infant,'  [!!J  exhibits  something  of  this  communion  and  interchange,"  etc. 
If  the  reader  have  the  works  of  Mr.  Wordsworth,  I  beg  he  will  read  this 
prattle  to  a  baby,  which  is  to  be  found  at  the  tail  of  the  first  volume  of  the 
Boston  edition  of  1624.  If  he  shall  be  able  to  get  through  the  lullaby,  with- 
out sleeping,  he  will  acknowledge  that  the  modesty  of  Mr.  Wordsworth  is, 
or  was  at  that  day,  fully  equal  to  his  poetical  fancy. 

(a)  These  absurdities  let  us  very  easily  into  the  secret  of  Mr.  WonDswoRTH's  admira- 
tion of  prosaic  verse,  and  his  boastful  contempt  of  any  thing  like  poetical  embellishment. 
He  despises,  like  another  fox,  what  he  is  incapable  of  reaching  without  the  risk  of  disaster. 
It  is  only  when  the  Ballad-maker  creeps  along  the  ground,  that  his  humble  spirit  is  in  any 
way  mistress  of  herself. 


APPENDIX. 

[BEING   A   CONTINUATION   OF   THE   AUTHOR'S   NOTE 
ON   PAGE  283.] 


WILLIAM    WORDSWORTH, 

HIS  POETRY,  AND   HIS  MISREPRESENTATIONS. 

Ipse  facit  versus,  atque  uni  cedit  Homero 
Propter  mille  aimos."     Juv.  vii.  38,  39.  *  * 

I  CANNOT  here  enter  into  an  argument,  to  show,  what  I  am 
sorry  to  say  the  age  appears  too  timid  to  discover  for  itself, 
the  utter  absurdity  of  that  most  ignorant  and  presumptuous 
innovator,  the  man  who  has  dared  singly  to  break  through  the 
structure  cemented  by  the  labors  of  near  three  thousand  years, 
and,  placing  himself  in  the  gap,  cry  out  to  the  present  genera- 
tion to  admire  the  prospect  opened  through  the  broad  vacuity. 
If  God  should  be  pleased  to  spare  my  life  yet  a  few  years  long- 
er, I  may  devote  a  portion  of  another  work  to  this  object,  and 
vindicate  at  large  the  genius  of  Pope.  At  present  I  will  merely 
so  far  discuss  the  matter  as  shall  be  necessary  to  justify  my 
own  text. 

Let  us  observe,  then,  that  tedious  and  contradictory  Preface, 
which  evinces  its  author  to  be  almost  as  incapable  of  writing  pure 
and  perspicuous  prose,  as  he  was,  till  Byron  taught   him,*  of 

*  In  the  poems  published  in  1820-1822,  Mr.  Wordsworth,  departing  com- 
pletely from  his  own  rules,  or  rather  no-rules,  has  profited  by  the  muse  of 
one  who  scorned  him  as  a  poet.     For  example :  — 
"  Fancy  hath  flung  for  me  an  airy  bridge 
Across  thy  long,  deep  valley,  furious  Rhone  ! 
Arch  that  kere  rests  upon  the  granite  ridge 
Of  Monte  Rosa  —  there,  on  frailer  stone 


392  WILLIAM   WORDSWORTH. 

inditing  tolerable  verse.  Passing  over  a  passage  where  Mr. 
Wordsworth  has  dared  to  compare  himself  to  Milton,* 
whom  he  calls  (though  in  absolute  contradiction  of  his  own  doc- 
trines) a  "  truly  divine  poet,"  we  extract  some  lines  which 
he  has  cited  as  indicative  "  of  extreme  activity  of  intellect  and 
a  corresponding  feeling." 

"  A  magazine 


Of  sovereign  juice  is  cellared  in, 


Of  secondary  birth  —  tlie  Jung-frau's  cone ; 
And,  from  that  arch  down-looking  on  the  vale, 
The  aspect  I  behold  of  every  zone  ; 
A  sea  of  foliage  tossing  with  the  gale, 
Blithe  Autumn's  purple  crown,  and  Winter's  icy  mail !  " 


And:  — 


"My  spirit  is  the  scene  of  such  wild  art 
As  on  Parnassus  rules,  when  lightning  flies, 
Visibly  leading  on  the  thunder's  harmonies." 
Desultory  Stanzas,  appended  to  the  Memorials  of  a  Tour  on  the  Continent. 

Though  we  do  not  exactly  understand  the  phrase  wild  art,  especially  as  ap- 
plied to  a  thunder-storm,  no  more  than  we  can  perceive  how  a  crown  and  a 
coat  of  mail  can  be  at  the  same  time  a  sea,(a)  yet  the  above  twelve  verses 
convince  us  of  two  things;  first, —  that  Mr.  Wordsworth  is,  though  a 
maligner  of  all  good  poetry,  really  something  of  a  poet ;  secondly,  —  that  he 
has  by  his  own  example,  either  proved  the  falsity  of  his  own  assertions,  or 
shown  that  in  his  maturer  day  he  was  become  a  wiser  or  more  prudent  man, 
and  had  returned  to  the  bosom  of  the  poetic  failh  from  which  he  had  ridicu- 
lously apostatized. 

*  "  Awe-stricken  as  I  am  by  contemplating  the  operations  of  the  mind  of 
this  truly  divine  Poet,  I  scarcely  dare  venture  to  add,  that  '  An  Address  to 
an  Infant,'  [!!]  exhibits  something  of  this  cotnmunion  and  interchange,"  etc. 
If  the  Reader  have  the  works  of  Mr.  Wordsworth,  I  beg  he  will  read  this 
prattle  to  a  baby,  which  is  to  be  found  at  the  tail  of  the  first  volume  of  the 
Boston  edition  of  1824.  If  he  shall  be  able  to  get  through  the  lullaby,  with- 
out sleeping,  he  will  acknowledge  that  the  modesty  of  Mr.  Wordsworth  is, 
or  was  at  that  day,  fully  equal  to  his  poetical  fancy. 

(a)  These  absurdities  let  us  very  easily  into  the  secret  of  Mr.  Wordsworth's  admira- 
tion of  prosaic  verse,  and  his  boastful  contempt  of  any  thing  like  poetical  embellishment. 
He  despises,  like  another  fox,  what  he  is  incapable  of  reaching  without  the  risk  of  disas- 
ter. It  is  only  when  the  Ballad-maker  creeps  along  the  ground,  that  his  humble  Bpirit  is 
in  any  way  mistress  of  herself. 


UiS   MISREPRESENTATIOJNS.  393 

Liquor  that  will  the  siege  maintain, 
Should  Phoebus  ne'er  return  again. 

"  'T  is  that,  that  gives  the  Poet  rage, 
And  thaws  the  gelly'd  blood  of  Age  ; 
Matures  the  Young,  restores  tlie  Old, 
And  makes  the  fainting  Coward  bold." 

The  brother-rhymster  goes  on  to  quote  thirty-five  lines  more, 
equally  good,  of  this  delicious  poem,  being,  as  he  says,  "  una- 
ble to  resist  the  pleasure  of  transcribing  "  it !  *  It  is  the 
same  mean  and  vulgar  description  of  vulgar  trifles,  connected 
by  patches  of  meaner  and  more  vulgar  thought,  which  lan- 
guishes through  his  own  somniferous  ballads  ;  a  skein  of 
worsted  thread  unwound,  and  straightened  out  to  its  extent. 
Next  follows  the  following,  what  shall  we  call  it  ?  upon  Alex- 
ander Pope.  "  The  arts  by  which  Pope,  soon  afterwards, 
contrived  to  procure  to  himself  a  more  general  and  a  higher 
reputation  than  perhaps  any  English  Poet  ever  obtained  dur- 
ing his  lifetime,  are  known  to  the  judicious.  And  as  well 
known  is  it  to  them,  that  the  undue  exertion  of  these  arts  is 
the  cause  why  Pope  has  for  some  time  held  a  rank  in  litera- 
ture, to  which,  if  he  had  not  been  seduced  by  an  over-love  of 
immediate  popularity,  he  never  could  have  descended."  Now 
it  is  known  to  the  judicious,  that  Pope  owes  all  that  just  ce- 
lebrity to  which  he  attained,  —  and  which  he  will  retain  when 
Mr,  Wordsworth  lies,  with  his  daisies  and  daffodils,  forgotten, 
—  all  to  his  close  imitation  of  the  ancients.  As  in  sculpture  and 
architecture,  so  in  poetry,  art  had  reached  its  perfection  when 
the  English  language  was  yet  floating  in  its  chaotic  elements  ; 
and  now  that  this  language  has  attained  an  excellence,  which, 
can  we  but  keep  it  from  corruption,  leaves  nothing  to  be  de- 
sired, English  poetry  can  approximate  to  perfection  only  in 
copying  the  standard  of  antiquity;  and  it  will  maintain  a  dura- 


*  OuToi  fih  ouv  oh  XiXn^ccffiv,  says  IsocRATES,  speaking  of  such  delicate  spir- 
its, ar<  Tovrou;  i^aivouiriv,  a>  v  iyyli;    a  tiro  i    ruy^avoiiaiv   oiirtf. 
Panegyr.  Edit.  Glasg.  1778.  l2mo.  p.  3. 
50 


394  WILLIAM   WORDSWORTH. 

tion,  precisely  in  proportion  to  its  nearness  to  the  same,  or  its 
distance  therefrom.*  Hence  Pope,  whose  judgment  in  poetry 
has  seldom  if  ever  been  surpassed,  knew  very  well  what  to 
make  the  stepping-stone  of  his  success,  and,  treading  in  the 
footsteps  of  BoiLEAU,  carried  the  poetic  diction  of  his  native 
language  to  a  height  to  which  the  colder  Frenchman  had 
never  attained  in  his.  If  this  art,  this  power  of  elevating 
what  is  mean  or  common  in  itself,  by  the  grace,  or  strength, 
or  harmony  of  diction,  or  by  all  three  united,  be  not  essential 
to  poetry,  nay,  its  very  essence,"]'  what  then  is  the  author  of  the 
Liitrin  ?  Mr.  Wordsavorth  has  cited  ViROii,,  nor  appears  to 
despise  him.  Would  Virgil  be  what  he  is,  without  his  dic- 
tion ?  Would  his  pathos,  never  yet  equalled,  be  alone  suffi- 
cient to  bear  him  above  the  heads  of  all  competitors  ?  or  is  it 
not  his  majesty,  his  lovely  polish,  his  bewitching  grace  of  nar- 
rative, which  carries  us  away  with  him  irresistibly,  and  calls 
at  times  the  tears  into  our  eyes,  with  pure  excess  of  love  and 
admiration,  as  readily  as  his  tenderness  ?  But  let  us  see,  by 
two  examples,  what  is  "  poetic  diction,"  and  whether  it  be,  or, 
as  Mr.  Wordsworth  would  have  it,  be  not,  an  essential  part  of 
poetry.     We  will  take  them   from  the  first  of  satirists,  though 


*  That  no  narrow-minded  person  may  affect  to  misunderstand  me,  I  must 
be  permitted  distinctly  to  assert,  that,  when  I  speak  of  a  standard  in  poetry, 
1  only  consider  it  such  so  far  as  it  copies  nature  without  degrading  art,  doing 
(to  employ  a  familiar  illustration)  precisely  as  a  skilful  painter  of  portraits, 
when  he  embellishes  a  likeness  without  at  all  diminishing  the  truth  of  the 
expression.  The  servile  adoption  of  ancient /as/uo/is  in .  literature,  or  the 
mixing  up,  with  the  images  which  belong  to  every  age  and  people,  of  the  ex- 
ploded flibles  of  a  barbarous  and  debasing  mythology,  I  am  as  far  from  recom- 
mending as  1  should  be  for  reviving  that  era  of  refinement  on  the  stage,  when 
the  representatives  of  Hector  strutted  magnanimous  in  Gallic  breeches. 

t  Johnson  says  of  Pope,  that  it  would  be  very  difficult  to  make  any  defi- 
nition of  poetry  in  which  his  compositions  should  not  be  included.  Had  Pope 
flourished  in  the  present  century,  he  might  have  been  in  poetry  what  Byron 
was,  though  I  am  not  so  easily  persuaded,  that,  had  Byron  lived  in  the  time 
of  Anne,  he  would  have  shown  that  perfect  mastery  of  his  art,  which  sets 
Pope,  in  correctness  and  finish,  above  all  the  poets  of  Great  Britain. 


HIS   MISREPRESENTATIONS.  395 

not  the  greatest  of  poets  ;    and   tliey    shall  not  be  selected. 
They  are  those  wliich  occur  to  us  at  the  moment  of  writing. 

Utque  lacus  suberant,  ubi,  quanquam  diruta,  scrval 
Igncm  Trojcmnm,  et  Vestam  colit  Alba  minorem* 

Dimidio  magicce  resonant  ubi  Mcmnone  chordcc^ 
Jltque  vetus  Thcbc  centum  jacel  obruta  portis.1[ 

Is  there  any  one  so  dead  to  beauty,  that  does  not  see  that 
by  this  peiiphrasis,  in  cither  case,  the  poet  has  given  dignity  and 
interest  to  what  in  itself  is  nothing  ?  Substitute  mere  Mba  for 
the  first,  and  simple  Thebes  for  the  second,  and  the  power  of 
poetic  diction  is  at  once  seen  by  contrast. J  This  circumlocu- 
tion, which  in  prose  were  affected  and  displeasing,  presents  us 
in  verse  a  picture  wherein  we  at  once  trace  the  consanguinity 
of  poetry  and  painting,  and  acknowledge  with  delight  the  fea- 
tures common  to  them  both.  Yet  poetry  and  prose  are  one,  ac- 
cording to  Mr.  Wordsworth  !  Hear  him  :  —  "I  have  previ- 
ously asserted,  that  a  large  portion  of  the  language  of  every 
good  poem  can  in  no  respect  differ  from  that  of  good  Prose. 
I  will  go  further.  I  do  not  doubt  that  it  may  be  safely  affirmed, 
that  there  neither  is,  nor  can  be,  any  essential  difference  be- 
tween the  language  of  prose  and  metrical  composition."  [!  !  ]  I 
wish  I  could  continue  the  quotation  ;  for  the  Ballad-maker 
goes  on  to  show,  pretty  plainly,  that  he  does  not  know  what 
he  is  talking  about.  (.See  page  Ixxxii.  of  Vol.  1st  of  his  Poetical 
Works.     Boston  edition.) 

To  go  back  in  the  order  of  his  pages,  —  he  says,  that  by  the 
Idiot  Boy  and  the  Mad  Mother,  he  had  endeavoured  to  trace 
the  maternal  passion  through  many  of  its  more  subtile  unndingSy 
and,  ^'  in  the  stanzas  entitled  we  are  seven,  the  perplexity 
and  obscurity  which  in  childhood  attend  our  notion  of  death, 
or  rather  our  utter  inability  to  admit   that   notion."     In  both 

»  Jdv.  iv.  60,  Gl.        *  * 
t  7d.  XV.  5,  6. 

X  It  is  in  such  points  as  these,  for  instance,  that  wo  assiimo  tiie  poets  of 
antiquity  to  be  patterns  for  modern  bards. 


396  WILLIAM    VVUKUSVVORTH. 

these  cases,  one  may  stare  at  the  presumption  of  this  man  of 
childish  mind,  who  seems  really  to  believe,  that  circumstances 
so  common,  as  those  he  has  there  made  matter  of,  have  failed 
to  be  noticed  by  everybody.  The  elegance  of  the  diction,  we 
allow,  is  quite  beyond  the  ability  of  anybody:  — 

"  Burr,  burr  —  now  Johnny's  lips  they  burr, 
As  loud  as  any  mill,  or  near  it; 
Meek  as  a  lamb  the  Pony  moves, 
And  Johnny  makes  the  noise  he  loves, 
And  Betty  listens,  glad  to  hear  it. 

"  Away  she  hies  to  Susan  Gale  : 
Her  Messenger  's  in  merry  tune ; 
The  Owlets  hoot,  the  Owlets  curr, 
And  Johnny's  lips  they  burr,  burr,  burr, — 
And  on  he  goes  beneath  the  Moon." 

Tlic  Idiot  Boy  [de  nomine  facti.] 

Upon  my  word,  I  do  not  know  which  be  the  more  admira- 
ble, the  sense  or  the  style. 

Next  we  come  to  a  most  wilful,  or  ignorant,  and  in  either 
case  disgraceful,  misrepresentation  of  Dryden  and  of  Pope. 
"  To  what  a  low  state  knowledge  of  the  most  obvious  and  im- 
portant phenomena  had  sunk,  is  evident  from  the  style  in 
which  Dryden  has  executed  a  description  of  Night  in  one  of 
his  Tragedies,  and  Pope  his  translation  of  the  celebrated 
moonlight  scene  in  the  Iliad.  A  blind  man,  in  the  habit  of 
attending  accurately  to  the  descriptions  casually  dropped  from 
the  lips  of  those  around  him,  might  easily  depict  these  appear- 
ances with  more  truth.  Dryden's  lines  are  vague,  bombastic, 
and  senseless."     Luckily,  he  quotes  them  :  — 

"  Cortes  alone,  in  a  nightgmcn. 
"  All  things  are  hush'd  as  Nature's  self  lay  dead : 
The  mountains  seem  to  nod  their  drowsy  head  : 
The  little  Birds  in  dreams  their  songs  repeat, 
And  sleeping  Flowers  beneath  the  Night-dew  sweat ; 
Even  Lust  and  Envy  sleep  ;  yet  Love  denies  ' 
Rest  to  my  soul,  and  Slumber  to  my  eyes. 

"  Dryden's  Indian  Eviperor." 


HIS   MISREPRESENTATIONS.  307 

Now,  the  description  is  not  indeed  minute,  because  the  oc- 
casion did  not  require  it  to  be  so,  and  the  conceit  in  the  fourth 
line  is  rather  absurd  ;  but  that  the  passage,  taken  as  a  whole, 
is  bombastic  and  senseless,  I  think  simple  and  sensible  Mr. 
Wordsworth  would  not  easily  be  able  to  show.*  He  goes  on 
to  say:  —  "those  of  Pope,  though  he  had  Homer  to  guide 
him,  are  throughout  false  and  contradictory.  *  *  *  they 
still  retain  their  hold  upon  public  estimation,  —  nay,  there  is 
not  a  passage  of  descriptive  poetry  which  at  this  day  finds  so 
many  and  such  ardent  admirers.  Strange  to  think  of  an  En- 
thusiast, as  may  have  been  the  case  with  thousands,  reciting 
those  verses  under  the  cope  of  a  moonlight  sky,  without  hav- 
ing his  raptures  in  the  least  disturbed  by  a  suspicion  of  their 
absurdity."  Those  verses  the  candid  critic  has  taken  care  not 
to  quote  ;  but  we  will  do  it  for  him  :  — 

*  Perhaps  Mr.  Wordsworth  prefers  his  own  descriptions  of  night. 

"  Through  all  her  courts 
The  vacant  city  slept ;  the  busy  ■winds, 
That  keep  no  certain  intervals  of  rest, 
Moved  not  !    Meanwhile  the  galaxy  displayed 
Her  fires,  that  like  mysterious  pulses  beat 
Aloft .'"  Vaudracour  and  Julia.    (Vol.  i.  p.  214.) 

This  is  neither  vague,  nor  bombastic,  nor  senseless.  The  poem  whence  it  is 
taken  occupies  but  ten  pages,  in  12mo ;  yet,  in  the  next  page  but  one  after  that 
where  the  above  intelhgible  piece  of  simplicity  occurs,  we  have  the  following- 
lines  :  — 

"  for  no  thought 

Uncharitable,  no  presumptuous  rising 

Of  hasty  censure,  modelled  in  the  eclipse 

Of  true  domestic  loyalty,  did  e'er  find  place 

Within  his  bosom."  (p.  216.) 

Our  limits  will  not  admit  of  additional  citations,  but  we  would  engage  to  fill, 
out  of  Mr.  VVordswoth's  poems,  a  small  volume  with  similar  instances  of 
fustian,  and  complete  absurdity ;  nonsense  so  unintelligible,  that  )'0u  should 
hardly  know  whether  you  were  reading  English  or  Dutch.  Yet  Mr.  Words- 
worth is  the  poet  of  simplicity  !  — and  entertains  a  prodigious  indignation 
against  the  rant  of  Dryden,  and  other  mighty  names. 

Eheu, 
Cluam  tomere  in  nosmet  legem  sancimus  iniquam  !  (a) 

(a)  HORAT.  Sat.  i.  3.  v.  66.        *  * 


398  WILLIAM    WORDSWORTH. 

"  As  when  the  moon,  refulgent  lamp  of  night  I 
O'er  heav'n's  clear  azure  spreads  her  sacred  light, 
When  not  a  breath  disturbs  the  deep  serene. 
And  not  a  cloud  o"ercasts  the  solemn  scene  ; 
Around  her  throne  the  vivid  planets  roll, 
And  stars  unnumber'd  gild  the  glowing  pole, 
O'er  the  dark  trees  a  yellower  verdure  shed. 
And  tip  with  silver  ev'ry  mountain's  head  : 
Then  shine  the  vales,  the  rocks  in  prospect  rise, 
A  flood  of  glory  bursts  from  all  the  skies  : 
The  conscious  swains,  rejoicing  in  the  sight. 
Eye  the  blue  vault,  and  bless  the  useful  light." 

What  is  there  false  and  contradictorij  in  this  description  ? 
O,  a  note  in  Wakefield's  pedantic  and  impertinent  edition 
of  the  translated  Iliad,  told  Mr.  Wordsworth,  that  ".  Homer 
says  nothing  about  the  vales,  which  had  better  been  omitted 
on  this  occasion."  Moreover,  the  poet,  in  that  exquisite  coup- 
let, 

"  O'er  the  dark  trees  a  yellow^er  verdure  shed, 
And  tip  with  silver  ev'ry  mountain's  head," 

would  seem  to  apply  to  the  stars  an  effect  which  could  only 
be  produced  by  the  moon,  and  which  stars  could  not  under 
any  circumstance  whatever  give  rise  to.*  And  it  is  these  two 
blemishes,  which  no  man,  whatever  he  may  assert,  can  per- 
suade himself  to  think  any   thing   but  inadvertences,  on  the 

*  An  edition  in  12mo  is  before  me,  printed  in  Edinburgh,  for  Alexander 
Donaldson,  1778,  which  reads,  in  the  second  line  of  the  above  distich,  tipt. 
If  this  be  the  way  that  Pope  wrote  it,  one  of  the  errors  disappears  at  once  ; 
for,  on  regarding  shed  as  a  participle,  the  couplet  can  apply  no  longer  to  the 
stars.  The  sense,  then,  will  be  such  as  will  show  a  nicety  of  observation, 
only  rivalled  by  the  exquisite  skill  with  which  its  results  are  laid  down. 
The  verdure  of  the  trees,  in  such  a  scene  as  Homer  paints,  would  yield  in- 
deed a  yellower  [observe,  not  yellow]  lustre,  while  the  summits  of  the  moun- 
tains would  be  tipt  with  silver.  Note  too  the  epithet  dark,  which  envelopes 
the  body  of  the  object  in  shadow,  while  its  top  alone  is  seen  illuminated 
by  the  rays  of  the  planet.  By  Heaven  I  the  scene  is  before  us  !  such  as 
we  have  viewed  a  thousand  times.  But,  stay  !  perhaps  the  moon  does  not 
shine  in  Mr.  Wordsworth's  country,  as  she  does  in  Greece  and  in  Amer- 
ica, and  as  she  did  in  England  when  Pope  looked  on  her  horns.  It  is  a  great 

pity- 


HIS   MISREPRESENTATIONS.  309 

part  of  a  poet  who  certainly  wanted  nothing  less  than  good 
sense  and  observation,  it  is  these  two  unfortunate  oversights 
which  are  to  swallow  up  every  beauty  in  the  whole  fourteen 
lines  !  it  is  these  which  arc  to  make  the  lines  "  throughout 
false  and  contradictory  "  ! 

As  for  the  ahsurditij,  we  think  it  must  be  in  the  brain  of  the 
critic  ;  while  the  so  many  and  so  ardent  admirers  are  likely  to 
continue  as  many  and  as  ardent  as  before.  There  is  a  softness, 
a  mellowness,  so  to  speak,  about  the  whole  scene  in  the  trans- 
lation, that  gives  it  the  very  coloring  of  moonlight,  and  it  will  so 
be  felt  by  everybody.  If  you  exclude  the  phrase  "  refulgent 
lamp  of  night,"  which  is  neither  necessary,  nor  can  enhance 
the  beauty  or  the  lustre  of  the  object,  the  whole  passage  is 
perhaps  such,  as  will  not  readily  be  again  read  in  any  poet.* 

Thei'e  is  no  way  so  sure  of  seeing  motes  in  the  sunbeams,  as 
to  darken  the  room,  and  let  the  light  find  admittance  only  by  a 
crevice.  Such  a  preparation  Mr.  Wordsworth  made,  when 
he  looked  for  floating  specks  in  the  noontide-radiance  of  Pope. 
By  a  like  process  he  discovered  that  Thomson  was  more  lucky 
than  wise.t     Accordingly,  he   admires  the   Castle  of  Indolence 


*  The  chief  blemish  in  the  piece  is  that  which  disfigures  the  whole  of  the 
translation,  not  only  of  the  Iliad  but  of  the  Odyssey,  to  wit,  the  insertion  of 
unnecessary  epithets,  merely  to  fill  up  the  lines.  But  here  too  Pope  "  had 
Homer  to  guide  him;"  and  when  we  consider  the  labor  of  translation,  a 
labor,  even  upon  the  Iliad,  so  ungrateful,  we  can  hardly  blame  the  poet  for 
adopting,  to  facilitate  his  task,  an  expedient  for  which  he  had  the  example, 
not  only  of  his  copy,  to  justify  (I  should  rather  say,  to  excuse)  him,  but  that 
of  all  the  ancient  poets  at  times,  and  that  of  every  critic  who  has  framed  his 
rules  after  their  works.  Vida,  from  whom  Pope  borrowed  so  much  of  the 
Essay  on  Criticism,  directly  sanctions  it.  In  his  original  poems.  Pope  sel- 
dom, if  ever,  is  guilty  of  this  weakness.  I  do  not  believe  that  a  single  in- 
stance could  be  adduced  from  the  Dunciad. 

t  "  Wonder  is  the  natural  product  of  Ignorance  ;  and  as  the  soil  was  in 
such  good  condition  [owing  to  the  labors  of  Dryden  and  of  Pope  !]  at  the 
time  of  the  publication  of  the  Seasons,  the  crop  was  doubtless  abundant. 
Neither  individuals  nor  nations  become  corrupt  all  at  once,  nor  are  they  en- 
lightened in  a  moment.     Thomson  was  an  inspired  Poet,  but  he  could  not 


400  WILLIAM   WORDSWORTH. 

far  more  than  the  Seasons*;  and,  as  a  proof  of  the  correctness 
of  his  own  ideas  of  poetry,  he  engages  that,  "  in  any  well- 
used  copy  "  of  the  latter  poem,  you  shall  find  the  book  to  open 
of  itself  at  the  episodes. "f  No  doubt  :  and  we  can  tell  Mr. 
WoKDSwoRTH  wliy.     Bccausc,  thou 

"  framer  of  a  lay 

As  soft  as  evening  in  thy  favorite  May,"  J 
the  majority  of  the  world  cannot  appreciate  the  graces  of  so 
elegant  a  poet,  any  more  than  the  Rhymer  of  Rydal  Mount 
can  ;  but  Thomson  is  a  celebrated  poet  ;  therefore  he  must  be 
read  ;  therefore  he  is  read  ;  but,  as  the  rude  and  stolid  mind 
cannot  penetrate  his  sense  directly,  nor  catch  at  once  the 
beauties  of  his  song,§  it  turns  to  what  it  may  peruse  without 

work  miracles,  etc.  Having  shewn  [how,  pray  ?]  that  much  of  what  his 
Biographer  deemed  genuine  admiration  must,  in  fact,  have  been  bhnd  wonder- 
ment [I!], —  how  is  the  rest  to  be  accounted  for?  —  Thomsomcas  fortunate 
in  the  very  title  of  his  -poem,  which  seemed  to  bring  it  home  to  the  prepared 
sympathies  of  every  one(«)  :  in  the  next  place,  notwithstanding  his  high 
powers,  he  writes  a  vicious  style  ;  and  his  false  ornavients  are  exactly  of  that 
hind  which  would  he  most  likely  to  strike  the  undiscerning."  Poet.  W^orks, 
Vol.  i.  {Boat,  cd.)  "  Supplement  to  the  Preface,"  pp.  xlix,  1. 

'  "  In  the  Castle  of  Indolence  (of  which  Gray  [no  mean  critic  in  matters 
of  poetry]  speaks  so  coldly)  these  characteristics,  ["  the  true  characteristics  of 
Thomson's  genius  as  an  imaginative  Poet;"  doubtless,  according  to  Mr. 
Wordsworth,  what  Gray  would  justly  have  termed  blemishes,  —  being 
those  flat  and  insipid  passages  which  approximate  the  nearest  to  the  rhyth- 
mical prose  of  tlio  poet  of  Rydal  Mount,]  these  characteristics  were  almost 
as  conspicuously  displayed,  and  in  verse  more  harmonious  and  diction  more 
pure  [!!].  Yet  that  fine  poem  was  neglected  on  its  appearance,  and  is  at  this 
day  the  delight  only  of  a  Few  !  [no  doubt]."     Suppl.  to  the  Pref.  p.  li. 

t  Supplement,  »fec.  p.  1.        *  * 

t  The  simple  Wordsworth,  framer  of  a  lay 
As  soft  as  evening  in  his  favorite  Maj'. 

Engl.  Bards  and  Sc.  Reviewers.        *  * 

§  Mr.  Wordsworth  was  quite  of  a  different  opinion.  See,  in  this  Appen- 
dix, the  conclusion  of  the  next  but  one  preceding  of  the  Author's  notes.     *  * 

(a)  So  far  from  this  is  the  fact,  that  no  title  could  have  been  more  ill  calculated  to  at- 
tract notice. 


HIS   MISREPRESENTATIONS.  401 

tedium,  and,  by  the  aid  of  gratified  concupiscence,  gets  througii 
the  drowsy  fable  of  Musidora,  or,  incited  by  that  youthful 
vanity,  which  sees  in  the  love-fortunes  of  another  the  pleasant 
shadows  cast  before  its  own,  dances  through  the  insipidities 
of  "old  Acasto's  line." 

After  Dryden,  Pope,  and  Thomson,  the  reader  will  not  be 
surprised  to  find  Gray  among  our  judge's  poetical  culprits. 
Yet  was  Gray  the  master  of  a  lyre,  which,  if  we  read  the 
strains  of  the  exalted  Theban  without  making  any  allowance 
for  our  necessarily  imperfect  appreciation  of  them,  certainly 
rivals  the  poet's  to  whose  key  he  tuned  its  chords.* 

*  —  "to  illustrate  the  subject  ['  that  some  of  the  most  interesting  parts  of 
the  best  poems  will  be  found  to  be  strictly  the  language  of  prose,  when  prose 
is  well  written,']  in  a  general  manner,  I  will  here  adduce  a  short  composition 
of  Gray,  who  was  at  the  head  of  those  who,  by  their  reasonings  have  attempt- 
ed-to  widen  the  space  of  separation  betwixt  Prose  and  Metrical  composition, 
and  was  more  than  any  other  man  curiouslj^  elaborate  in  the  structure  of 
his  own  poetic  diction. 

"  In  vain  to  me  the  smiling  mornings  shine, 

And  reddening  Phcebus  lifts  his  golden  fire  : 

The  birds  in  vain  their  amorous  descant  join, 

Or  cheerful  fields  resume  their  green  attire. 

These  ears,  alas  !  for  other  notes  repine  ; 

A  different  object  do  these  eyes  require  ; 

My  lonely  anguish  melts  no  heart  but  mine ; 

And  in  my  breast  the  imperfect  joys  expire. 

Yet  morning  smiles  the  busy  race  to  cheer, 

And  new-born  pleasure  brings  to  happier  men ; 

The  fields  to  all  their  wonted  tribute  bear  ; 

To  warm  their  little  loves  the  birds  complain. 

/  fruitless  mourn  to  him.  that  cannot  hear, 

And  weep  the  more  because  I  weep  in  vain." 
"  It  will  easily  be  perceived,  that  the  only  part  of  this  Sonnet  which  is  of 
any  value  is  the  lines  printed  in  Italics ;  it  is  equally'  obvious  [equally  so, 
indeed],  that,  except  in  the  rhyme,  and  in  the  use  of  the  single  word  '  fruit- 
less '  for  fruitlessly,  which  is  so  far  a  defect,  the  language  of  these  lines  does 
in  no  respect  differ  from  that  of  prose  [•'!!]."     Pref ,  &c.  pp.  Ixxx,  Ixxxi. 

Did  Mr.  Wordsworth  believe  that  his  readers'  heads  were  furnished  with 
nsthing  else  but  noses,  and  that  he  could  lead  them  about  as  he  pleased  ? 
For  the  rest,  we  take  the  liberty  to  advise  the  grammatical  critic  that  fruitless 
is  not  put  foT  fruitlessly,  but,  with  a  figurative  meaning,  qualifies  the  pronoun 
/,  and  "  is  so  far  "  not  "  a  defect." 
51 


402  WILLIAM    WORDSWORTH. 

We  pass  a  most  unjust,  because  one-sided,  retrospect  of 
Dr.  Johnson,  and  conic  to  this  modest  declaration  of  the  Bal- 
lad-writer, —  "  that,  if  he  were  not  persuaded  that  the  Con- 
tents of  his  Volumes,  and  the  Work  to  which  they  are  sub- 
sidiary, evinced  something  of  the  '  Vision  and  the  Faculty 
divine';  and  that,  both  in  words  and  things,  they  will  [would  .''] 
operate  in  their  degree,  to  extend  the  domain  of  sensibility 
[towards  Ponies,  Owls,  and  Idiots],  for  the  delight  [of  chil- 
dren], the  honor  [of  butterflies],  and  the  benefit  of  human 
nature  [in  the  nursery],"  etc.  etc.,  "  he  would  not,  if  a  wish 
could  do  it,  save  them  from  immediate  destruction,"  etc.* 

We  now  return  to  the  "  Preface  to  the  Lyrical  Ballads." 
The  writer  cites  these  two  stanzas  :  — 

"  I  put  my  hat  upon  my  head 
And  walked  into  tlie  Strand, 
And  there  I  met  another  man 
Whose  hat  was  in  his  hand;" 

by  Dr.  Johnson  ;   and 

"  These  pretty  Babes  with  hand  in  hand 
Went  wandering  up  and  down  ; 
But  never  more  they  saw  the  Man 
Approaching  from  the  Town  ;  " 

from  the  ^^  Babes  in  the  Wood."  This  latter,  he  says,  "  we 
admit  as  admirable,  and  the  other  as  a  fair  example  of  the 
superlatively  contemptible."  Now,  for  my  own  part,  I  think 
the  Doctor's  the  better  of  the  two,  as  his  is  humorous,  and, 
what  it  was  meant  to  be,  a  capital  burlesque  parody,  while 
the  other  is  merely  vulgar,  and  trivial.  Let  it  not  be  supposed 
that  we  are  no  admirers  of  ballads.  On  the  contrary,  we  will 
be  bound  to  say,  that  Mr.  Wordsworth  cannot  relish  Percy's 
Reliques,  where  really  not  insipid,  more  than  we  have  done  : 
but  we  have  not  taught  ourselves  to  run  after  simplicity  till  it 
shall  have  dragged  us  through  all  sorts  of  mire,  and  then  to 
declare  that  our  spattered  boots  and  trowsers  are  elegant  at- 
tire, and  the  fit  costume  of  a  man  of  taste.     We  do  not  see 

Suppl.  <^c.   p.  Ixvii.         *  ^ 


Ills   MISREPRKSENTATIONS  403 

why  the  same  ear  cannot  at  one  time  relish  Mice  Gray,  and  at 
another  listen  with  delight  to  the  Ttitto  e  sciolto  of  Bellini  *; 
but  to  call  Yankee  Doodle  true  music,  and  to  represent  Mo- 
zart and  Rossini  as  vitiators  of  harmony,  is  not  in  our  ca- 
pacity, and  is  wholly  Wordsworth. 

Lastly,  comes  the  "Appendix"  on  "Poetic  Diction."  Dr. 
Johnson's  elegant  lines  on  the  Ant  and  the  Sluggard,  are  rep- 
resented as  a  "hubbub  of  words  "!  "f  and,  after  invidiously 
noticing  an  inadvertence  of  Cowper's,  in  calling  a  church- 
bell,  "church-going  bell,".1;  as  "an   instance  of  the  strange 

^  We  select  for  example  these  two  pieces,  because  they  are  the  most  popu- 
lar, each  in  its  kind,  of  the  two  sorts  of  music  with  which  we  mean  to  com- 
pare ordinary  ballads  (or  Wordsworthian  verses,  to  use  the  ridiculous  ex- 
pression of  Blackwood's  Magazine.)  and  refined  poetry.  Everybody  can 
understand  the  former  little  song,  and  enjoy  it  more  or  less  ;  but  it  requires 
some  knowledge  of  music,  and  a  delicate  ear,  to  appreciate,  or  even  to  hear 
with  patience,  the  composition  of  a  skilful  master,  while,  as  that  knowledge  is 
increased,  and  this  ear  progressively  refined,  the  enjoyment  derived  from  it  be- 
comes rapturous  beyond  any  intellectual  pleasure  we  know  of.  It  is  precisely 
so  in  poetry.  All  the  world  can  read  a  ballad,  but  study  and  a  nice  taste  are 
needed  for  tiie  thorough  relish  of  a  well-wrought  poem,  and  in  both  these 
qualifications  we  more  than  suspect  Mr.  Wordsworth  to  be  wholly  deficient. 

t  We  refer  the  reader  to  the  passage  (p.  ex) ;  for  it  is  a  fair,  or,  rather,  a 
foul  specimen  of  Mr.  Wordsworth's  disingenuousness,  certainly  of  his  ig- 
norance. We  cannot  here  enter  into  an  argument  to  show  why  in  certain 
cases  prose,  especially  the  prose  of  Scripture,  has  the  advantage  over  verse. 
Nor  were  it  necessary  ;  for  the  reason  is  evident  to  any  person  but  ordinarily 
well-read  in  criticism. 

t  His  critical  acumen  did  not  help  him  to  discover,  that,  in  the  ode  he  had 
admiringly  cited  of  Cotton's,  the  versifier,  where  he  says, 

"  And  thaws  the  gelly'U  blood  of  Age," 
forgot  that  jelly,  though  it  may  be  melted,  cannot  be  thawed. 

Be  which  as  it  may,  it  does  not  speak  much  for  the  strength  of  Mr. 
Wordsworth's  argument,  or  for  the  generosity  of  his  character,  that  he 
should  have  laid  so  much  stress  upon  a  mere  oversight.  That  we  have  our- 
selves noticed,  in  passing,  his  own  errors  of  a  like  sort,  is  because,  as  we 
have  done  with  Petronhjs  and  Rubeta,  we  would  attack  him  in  derision 
with  his  own  weapons,  although  to  use  them  has  soiled  our  hands  and  turned 
our  stomach. 


404  WILLIAM    WORDSWORTH. 

abuses  which  Poets  have  introduced  into  their  language,  till 
they  and  their  Readers  take  them  as  a  matter  of  course,  if 
they  do  not  single  them  out  expressly  as  objects  of  admira- 
tion," (an  instance  I  will  engage  to  cap  with  dozens  out  of  any 
volume  of  his  own  poems,)  the  poet-critic  quotes  this  stanza  as 
beautiful,  and  "  throughout  admirably  expressed  "  :  — 

■^  "  Ye  winds,  that  have  made  me  your  sport, 
Convey  to  this  desolate  shore 
Some  cordial  endearing  report 
Of  a  land  I  must  visit  no  more. 
My  Friends,  do  they  now  and  then  send 
A  wish  or  a  thought  after  me  ? 
O  tell  me  I  }'et  have  a  friend, 
Though  a  friend  I  am  never  to  see."  """^ 

And  here,  being  through  the  critical  stuff  of  Mr.  Words- 
worth, we  conclude  our  remarks  upon  his  prefaces  by  asking, 
first,  of  Mr.  Wordsworth's  readers,  whether  they  do  indeed 
think  that  vulgar  objects  cannot  be  described  without  vulgarity 
of  thought  or  language  ?  *  adducing  as  examples,  among  many 
of  modern  times  alone,  the  hair  of  Mrs.  Fermor  in  Pope,  the 
choristers'  desk  of  Boileau,   and  the  parrot  of  Gresset  j";   and 

*  It  was  said  of  Vikgil,  that  he  even  scatters  dung  about  with  dignity. 
Did  Mr.  Wordsworth  ever  hear  of  this  commendation?  Or  does  he  think 
that  dirt  cannot  be  spread  but  with  unclean  fingers .' 

i  The  solemnity  of  the  Rape  of  the  Loch,  of  the  Lvtrin,  of  Vtr-Verl,  is 
indeed  burlesque ;  but  that  does  not  invalidate  our  position.  Decency  may 
be  observed  without  the  affectation  of  gravity,  and  the  very  purpose  of  orna- 
ment is  to  enliven  and  give  interest  to  objects  in  themselves  dull  and  petty. 
Let  it  be  permitted  me  to  observe,  that  the  very  scenes  in  the  Dunciad  which 
are  reprobated,  as  mere  scenes,  by  all  critics,  are  more  than  half  redeemed 
by  their  exquisite  polish  as  poetry. 

"  List'ning,  delighted,  to  the  jest  obscene 
Of  linkboys  vile,  and  watermen  unclean." 

These  are  two  lines,  which  just  occur  to  us,  from  one  of  those  very  scenes. 
Is  there  an  ear  familiar  with  good  poetry,  that  does  not  perceive  at  once  the 
perfection  of  the  distich?  You  may  read  it  one  thousand  times,  yet  find 
nothino-  to  abate  your  pleasure  in  it.  But  is  it  poetry?  Faith!  I  do  not 
know  what  poetry  is,  —  no  more  than  Boileau  did,  or  Dr.  Johnson. 


HIS   MISREPRESENTATIONS.  405 

secondly,  of  Mi'.  Wordsworth  himself,  why,  in  abusing  al- 
most all  the  poets  that  precede  him  in  Great  Britain,  he  ex- 
cepts from  the  category  of  poetical  damnation  the  names  of 
Shakspeare  and  Milton  ?  Was  it  because  they  are  the  only 
poets  of  whose  ge^iius  there  is  no  dispute  in  England  ?  But, 
alas  for  the  Ballad-maker's  argument  !  are  not  those  parts  of 
Paradise  Lost  where  Milton  fails  in  his  "  poetic  diction,"  are 
they  not  all,  without  exception,  flat,  dull,  and  prosaic  ?  And, 
inversely,  is  not  every  part  that  is  admired,  an  instance  of  a 
happy  application  of  the  extreme  of  art  ?  Prove  it  otherwise, 
if  Mr.  Wordsworth,  or  his  thousand  admirers,  can  !  As  for 
Shakspeare,  it  is  his  moral  wisdom,  his  wit,  his  power  of  ex- 
pression, which,  still  more  than  his  fidelity  to  nature,*  have 
made  him  one  of  the  first  of  poets  ;  and  to  not  one  of  these 
qualities,  be  assured,  has  Mr,  Wordsworth  any  claim. 

'■■  J'ai  n,"  says  the  judgment  of  Boileau,  —  "  j'ai  ri  de  tout  men  coeur  de 
la  bonne  foi  avec  laquelle  voire  ami  soutient  une  opinion  aussi  peu  raisonna- 
ble  que  la  sienne.  Mais  cela  ne  m'a  point  du  tout  surpris :  ce  n'est  pas 
d'aujourd'hui  que  les  plus  medians  ouvrages  ont  trouve  de  sinceres  protec- 
teurs,  et  que  des  opiniEitres  ont  entrepris  de  combattre  la  raison  k  force 
ouverte.  Et  pour  ne  vous  point  citer  ici  d'exemples  du  commun,  il  n'est  pas 
que  vous  n'ajez  oui  parler  du  goiit  de  cet  Empereur  [Caligula],  qui  prefera 
les  ecrits  d"un  je  ne  sqai  quel  poete  aux  ouvrages  d'Homere,  et  qui  ne  voulait 
pas  que  tous  les  homines  ensemble,  pendant  prts  de  vingt  sidcles,  eusstnt  eu 
le  sens  commun,"     Dissert,  sur  la  Joconde. 

And  now,  having  shown  up  Mr.  Wordsworth's  ideas  of  his 
predecessors,  it  will  be  but  fair  to  let  him  defend  his  asper- 
sions by  means  of  his  own  verses  ;  for,  surely,  it  was  only  by 
contrast  with  his  own  muse  that  the  Westmoreland  harper 
discovered  their  inferiority. 

*  Yet  Shakspeare  had  been  ashamed  to  follow  Nature  in  the  trivialities, 
the  details  of  her  minor  economy  (so  to  speak),  where,  and  where  only,  Mr. 
Wordsworth  delights  to  observe  her, — just  as  the  boy  of  seven  years  will 
hang  about  the  dishcloth  of  the  cook,  and  thrust  his  nose  into  her  jellybags, 
which  the  grown  man  never  thinks  of,  and  would  deem  it  impertinent  to 
describe  and  dilate  upon  to  others,  inasmuch  as  they  are  matters  with  which 
everybody  is  supposed  to  be  sufficiently  familiar. 


400  VVilJJAM    WORDSWORTH. 

The  reader  has  seen  how  beautifully  the  able  disciple  of 
Mr.  Wordsworth  describes  her  dolls.*  Here  is  the  original 
of  the  picture  :  — 

"  Profuse  in  garniture  of  wooden  outs 
Strange  and  uncoulli ;  dire  laces,  figures  dire. 
Sharp-knee' d,  sharp-elbow' d,  and  lean-ankled  too, 
With  long  and  ghostly  shanks,  —  forms  whicli  once  seen 
Could  never  be  forgotten." 

Book  First  of  the  Excursion  (Vol.  iv.  p.  28) ; 

a  poem  which,  according  to  the  "  kind  of  Prospectus  "  the 
author  has  thought  proper  to  prefix  to  it,  ought  to  be  the  most 
prodigious  composition  that  the  brain  of  man  ever  conceived. 
Favetc  Unguis :  — 

'•  Urania,  1  shall  need 


Thy  guidance,  or  a  greater  Muse,  if  such 
Descend  to  earth  or  dwell  in  highest  heaven  ! 
For  I  must  tread  on  shadowy  ground,  must  sink 
Deep,  —  and,  aloft  ascending,  breathe  in  worlds 

To    WHICH    THE    HEAVEN    OF    HEAVENS    IS    BUT    A    VEIL    [!!]. 

Ml  strength,  —  all  terror,  single  or  in  bands, 

That  ever  was  put  forth  in  personal  form  ; 

Jehovah  —  with  his  thunder,  and  the  choir 

Of  shouting  Angels,  and  the  empyreal  thrones  — 

I  PASS  them  unalarmeu.     Not  Chaos,  not 

The  darkest  pit  of  lowest  Erebus, 

Nor  aught  of  blinder  vacancy  —  scooped  out 

By  help  of  dreams,  can  breed  such  fear  and  awe 

Jls  full  upon  us  often  when  we  look 

Into  our  Minds,  into  the  Mind  of  Man,  [! !] 

My  haunt,  and  the  main  region  of  my  Song." 

Preface  to  the  Poem.     (Vol.  iv.  p.  ix.) 

A  piece  of  information  altogether  new  to  us,  and  the  only 
novelty  that  is  to  be  found  in  the  whole  nine  books,  which  are, 
most  emphatically,  the  ridiculus  mus  to  the  montcs  of  the  Pre- 
face. By  the  by,  it  is  well  for  Mr.  Wordsworth  that  he  is 
Mr.  Wordsworth,  or  this  presumptuous  language  held  to- 
wards the  Deity,  which  really  startled  us,   and   startles  still, 

*  See  page  283.         *  * 


HIS  rUETRY.  407 

and  which  would  have  put  ^Eschylus  himself  to  the  blush, 
had  been  stigmatized  as  blasphemous  fustian. 

"  Jehovah  —  with  his  thunder,  and  the  choir 
Of  shouting  .Angels,  and  the  empyreal  thrones  — 

I    PASS    THEM    UNALARMED." 

Good  God  !     Everybody  has  heard,  that 

"  Fools  rusk  in  where  angels  fear  to  tread." 

But  we  will  set  this  aside,  and  consider  the  passage  merely 
as  presumptuous  from  vanity.  What  idea  must  William 
Wordsworth  have  of  his  own  powers  when  he  sets  them 
above  Milton's  ?  for  it  is  to  Miltox  he  refers,  when  he  says, 

"  So  prayed,  more  gaining  than  he  asked,  the  Bard 
Hohest  of  Men. —  Urania,  I  shall  need,"  etc.     (as  above)  : 

the  author  of  Paradise  Lost  having  opened  his  seventh  Book 
with  an  address  to  this  fancied  Muse.  But  again,  (to  set 
even  his  vanity  aside,)  I  know  few  boys,  of  healthy  mind,  that 
would  not  be  ashamed  to  speak  such  nonsense  as  takes  up 
the  entire  passage.     Let  us  transpose  it  to  the  natural  order. 

JVot  ChaoSy  nor  the  darkest  pit  of  lowest  Erebus,  nor  aught  of 
blinder  vacancy,  scooped  out  [elegant  expression  !]  scooped  out 
by  help  of  dreams,  can  breed  such  fear  and  awe  as  fall  upon  us, 
often,  u'hen  we  look  into  our  minds,  into  the  mind  of  man,  [a  most 
ridiculous  proposition,]  —  a  world  to  ivhichthe  heaven  of  heavens 
is  but  a  veil  [absurd,  senseless,  bombastic,  and  indecent]. 
Therefore  I  m^lst  tread  on  ground  tvhich  is  made  of  shadoivs 
[or,  shady  :  which  does  the  poet  mean  ?],  must  sink  deep  into 
these  same  shadou's,  and  then  mount  aloft  till  I  get  into  the  mind 
of  man,  which  is  the  place  I  haunt  and  the  country  I  chiefly  sing 
about,  or  in.  But  devil  a  bit  am  I  daunted  ;  no  !  All  strength, 
all  terror,  single  or  in  hands,  that  ever  was  put  forth  in  personal 
form,  etc.,  etc.,  /  pass  them  unalarmed.  Why  should  I  be 
alarmed,  I,  who  have  the  soul  of  Milton,  and  can  moralize 
upon  a  jackass  ? 


408  WILLIAM   WORDSWORTH. 

His  boat*  talks  more  sense  to  Mr.  Wordsworth  than  any 
critic  I  have  yet  read  :  — 

"  Out  —  out  —  and,  like  a  brooding  hen, 
Beside  your  sooty  hearth-stone  cower  ;  " 

(brooding  hens,  be  it  observed  parenthetically,  have  a  great 
fancy  for  hearth-stones,  especially  when  sooty  ;) 
"  Beside  your  sooty  Jiearth-stone  cower ; 

Go,  creep  along  the  dirt,  and  pick 

Your  way  with  your  good,  walking-stick, 

Just  three  good  miles  an  hour." 

This  is  exactly  the  Poet,  and  it  is  astonishing  to  see  how 
even  "  a  little  boat,"  after  having  accommodated  his  imag- 
inary bottom  for  a  little  while  in  the  air,  can  catch  its  master's 
polished  and  delightful  manner.  This,  we  say,  is  exactly  the 
Poet.     For  example  :  — 

"  In  March,  December,  and  in  Jidy 
'T  is  all  the  same  with  Harry  Gill ; 
The  neighbours  tell,  and  tell  you  truly, 
His  teetii  they  chatter,  chatter  still. 
At  night,  at  morning,  and  at  noon, 
'T  is  all  the  same  with  Harry  Gill ; 
Beneath  the  sun,  beneath  the  moon, 
His  teeth  they  chatter,  chatter  still !  " 

Goody  Blake  and  Harry  Gill  (Vol.  ii.  p.  24). 

Where,  moreover,  a  remarkable  instance  of  great  poetic  power 
is  to  be  observed  in  the  bold  license  of  rhyming  Jnhj  with 
truhj.  That  the  reader  might  catch  the  sound  at  once,  we 
therefore  accented  Ji'dy  as  the  poet,  no  doubt,  meant  to  have 
it  read. 

*  "  There  's  something  in  a  flying  horse, 
And  something  in  a  huge  balloon ; 
But  through  the  clouds  /  'II  never  float, 
Until  I  have  a  little  boat. 
Whose  shape  is  like  the  crescent  moon." 

Vol.  ii.  p.  117.     Prologue  to  Peter  Bell ; 

that  famous  story  of  a  little  ass,  which  stood  four  days  in  as  siceet  a  pasture 
as  was  ever  seen,  even  by  Dapple,  "  nor  ever  once  did  break  his  fast,"  being 
engaged  in  watching  his  drowned  master,  where  he  stuck  in  a  pond  with  his 
head  uppermost. 


HIS   POETRY.  409 

And  again,  in  another  kind  of  rhyme,  (for  we  shall  do  more 
for  him  than  he  did  for  Pope,  and  give  ample  specimens  of 
his  powers)  :  — 

"  O  blitlic  New-comer  !     I  have  lieard, 
1  liear  tliee  and  rejoice  : 
O  Cuckoo  !  shall  I  call  thee  Bird, 
Or  but  a  wandering  Voice?  " 

To  the  Cuckoo  (Vol.  ii.  p.  6). 

Can  any  thing  be  finer  ?  "  O  cuckoo  !  "  How  tender  !  how 
affectionate  !  how  coaxing  !  "  O  cuckoo  !  "  Lusingando,  as 
musicians  say. 

"  O  Cuckoo  !  shall  I  call  thee  Bird  9  " 
The  devil  !  how  could  the  cuckoo  resist  him  ?     "  Shall  I  call 
thee  Bird  ?  "     Bltss  thij  five  wits  .'* 

"  Or  but  a  wandering  Voice  ?  " 
There,  there,  there,  is  perfection  !    there   is  simplicity  !    there 
is  nature  ! 

"  Or  but  a  tcandering  Voice?  " 

Quid  mirandum  homini  coelo  divinitus  aeque 
Concessum  !  Mortale  genus  tua  numina  sentit, 
Quisquis  es  ille,  Deus  certe  !   qui  pectora  vatum 
Incolis,  afflatasque  rapis  super  aethera  mentes.t 

No  !    nothing  can  be  finer  !     It  is  only  the  same  author  that 

can  at  all  rival  it :  — 

' '  0  nightingale  !  thou  surely  art 
A  creature  of  a  fiery  heart :  — 
These  notes  of  thine  —  they  pierce  and  pierce  ; 
Tumultuous  harmony  and  fierce  ! " 

Could  the  merest  child,  —  could  John  Waters  himself,  —  Pe- 
TRONius's  John  Waters,  —  could  he  have  perpetrated  more 
wretched  foolery  ?  Were  my  youngest  boy,  who  is  yet  but 
five,  to  pen  such  stanzas,  I  believe  I  should  flagellate  him, 
were  it  only  to  set  in  operation  a  music  more  natural  and  more 
reasonable.     Let  us  taste  again  the  delicious  morsel :  — 

*  K.  Lear.     A.  iii.  Sc.  4.         *  *  t   Ywa:  Poet.  i.  545.         *  * 

52 


410  WILLIAM    WORDSWORTH. 

"  O  Wordsworth,  O  !  tliou  surely  art 
A  creature  of  a  fiery  lieart :  — 
These  notes  of  thine  —  they  pierce  and  pierce  ; 
Tumultuous  harmony  and  fierce  !  " 

Most  fit  was  this  great  poet,  this  second  Mihon,  to  revive 
the  legend  of  the  Prioress's  Tale  in  Chaucer.* 

"  This  Abbot,  for  he  was  a  lioly  man, 
As  all  monks  arc  or  surely  ought  to  be, 
In  supplication  to  the  Child  began, 
Thus  saying,  '  O  dear  Ciiild  !  I  summon  thee, 
In  virtue  of  the  holy  Trinity, 
Tell  me  the  cause  why  dost  tiiou  sing  this  hymn, 
Since  that  thy  throat  is  cut,  as  it  doth  seem.' 

"  '  My  throat  is  cut  unto  the  bone,  I  trow,' 
Said  this  young  Child,  '  and  by  the  law  of  kind 
1  should  have  died,  yea,  many  hours  ago; 
But  Jesus  Christ,  as  in  the  books  you  find, 
Will  that  his  glory  last,  and  be  in  mind. 
And,  for  the  worship  of  his  Mother  dear, 
Yet  I  may  sing,  O  Alma !  loud  and  clear.'  " 

With  children  for  his  judges,  Mr.  Wordsworth  would  be 
the  first  of  poets.  He  is  peculiarly  the  child's  versifier.  One 
might  say  of  his  innocent  rhymes,  in  his  own  felicitous  lan- 
guage, 

"  That  way  look,  my  infant,  lo  ! 
What  a  pretty  baby  show  !  " 

{The  Kitten,  S,'C.  p.  310  of  Vol.  i.) 

Some  of  his  little  ballads  being  not  unmusical,  and  even 
graced  at  intervals  with  a  touching  simplicity,  we  are  induced 
to  read  on,  but,  when  we  come  to  the  end,  behold,  they  turn 
out  to  be  merely  nothing,  and  we  wonder  at  the  premature 
dotage  which  could  induce  a  man  to  void  such  stuff  upon  the 
public,  imagining,  that  what  seemed  of  consequence  to  himself 

*  In  liis  own  mind  Mr.  Wordsworth  has  nothing,  and  he  is  incapable  of 
managing  material  of  an  elevated  nature  found  elsewhere.  See  how  mis- 
erably he  fails  in  the  White  Doe  of  RijI stone,  where  a  tolerably  good  poet  would, 
from  the  same  materials,  have  woven  a  mo.st  touching  tale. 


ma  FOETKY.  411 

must  necessarily  be  so  to   all   others.     See  "  The  Beggars,"  * 
(Vol.  ii.  p.  48),  which  begins  witli  this  characteristic  stanza  :  — 

"  She  had  a  tall  Man's  height,  or  more  ; 
No  bonnet  screen'd  her  from  the  heat ; 
A  long  drab-colored  Cloak  she  wore, 
A  Mantle  reaching  to  her  feet : 
IV/iat  other  dress  she  had  I  could  not  know  ; 
Only  she  wore  a  Cap  that  teas  as  ichite  as  snow." 

We  could  go  on  adding  proof  to  proof  of  our  assertions. 
The  only  difficulty  is  which  to  select  from  the  midst  of  the 
monstrous  heap.  Like  Piiilostratus  on  the  parts  of  his  mis- 
tress, —  T«i;r  i  Tt  a  lv  i  a  m  ;  y.(/.l  uijf  exHva  uuuvova-  J^xeivoig  8ia 
Tijv  XQiaiv  ;   y.ul  fisv  av&ilxsL  /.is  TavTct.J 

We  have  now  come  to  the  end  of  the  "  Poetical  Works  of 
William  Wordsworth,"  and  we  observe,  in  conclusion,  that,  to 
regard  him  no  longer  as  a  poet,  but  simply  as  an  author,  the 
calibre  of  his  mind  may  be  easily  measured  in  the  Essaij  on 
Epitaphs,  which  his  enormous  vanity  induced  him  to  republish 
at  the  close  of  the  fourth  volume  ;  a  tame  piece  of  inanity, 
without  even  the  graces  of  style  which  might  cover,  for  a  first 
reading,  a  want  of  matter.  It  conveys  to  me,  as  his  poems 
also  do,  the  impression  of  a  mind  weak  and  contracted,  but, 
saving  in  the  article  of  literary  envy,  not  imamiable. 

*  This  ballad  we  cite,  as  an  instance  of  the  trifling  character  of  most  of  Mr. 
Wordsworth's  compositions,  not  of  that  charming  simplicity  which  occa- 
sionally dots  them,  and  of  which  there  is  an  example  in  this  same  volume, 
viz. 

"  Three  years  she  grew  in  sun  and  shower, 
Then  Nature  said,  etc."    p.  15. 
t   E]j!st.  Ixv. 


INDEX. 


[the  numbers  refer  to  text  and  comment,  indiscriminately. 


Abbess,  the,  recognises  her  ass  in  Rubeta 

,  pledges  the  hero  .... 

,  inspired  with  prophetic  fervor 

,  lovely  trait  of  modesty  in  ... 

Acclamation  of  the  newsmen,  compared  to  a  scene  in  Milton's  Hell 

shower  in  a  market- town 

Adam,  created  double 

,  of  neither  sex 

's  vocal  flowers 

and  Eve,  at  dinner 


Adams  (Mr.  John  Qxiincy) 
Adder-stone,  the  .... 

Address,  Petronius's  brief,  awful  effects   of, 
Adieu,  pathetic,  of  the  hero 

abbess 

Adieu,  "  to  fame  and  light,"  Rubeta's  sad 
Adventure  of  the  window 


—  jars 

—  cask 


n  Hei 


Affliction,  the  test  of  character     . 

Alexander  and  Apelles 

Alligators  and  crocodiles 

Alms-begging,  literary,  or  the  Life  of  Joseph  Brant 

Amplification,  beautiful  instance  of,  from  Bianca  Viseonti 

Andrngyni,  the  .... 

Anecdote  of  Bancker-St.,  in  Manhattan 

Angels  do  not  propagate  their  kind 

A.ngelo   {Michael)   and    the   walls  of  the   Sistine  Chapel 

Ants  on  a  window-sill,  a  simile 

Anthon    ^Rev.  Henry)  .  .  .  .  . 

Aphides,  extraordinary  fecundity  of         .  .  . 

Apostrophe,  (Rubeta's)  to  his  Muse 

the  nine  Muses 

Aristeas  of  Proconnests  ;  what  he  could  do  with  his  soul 
Arms  of  the  hero  of  the  V^ision 

Arrival  of  the  triumphal  procession  before  the  abbe3t> 
Ass,  the  abbess's,  plays  Gulliver  on  the  conflagration     . 


P»SO 

Verse 

53 

540 

64 

20 

85 

155 

175 

430 

17 

199 

19 

230 

70 

80 

71, 

80 

108 

493 

207 

733 

385 

996 

229, 

84 

213 

773 

176 

438 

178, 

466 

145 

170 

99 

366 

118 

656 

137 

55 

117 

6L" 

296 

745 

270 

609 

150 

178 

356 

936 

72 

82 

251 

358 

71 

80 

186 

532 

55 

580 

297 

758 

72 

85 

26 

313 

98 

,%5H 

177 

^458 

103 

566 

173 

402 

59 

650 

414 


INDEX. 


Bailey  (Mr.  John)  's  "  baskins  of  a  day  " 

Banians,  queen  of  the  ;  her  peculiar  capacity 

Baptism  in  the  middle  ages,  .... 

Battle  between  Sir  Dumpling  and  the  ass 

Bay  of  New  York  ..... 

Beauty,  the  Sleeping,  cause  of  the  enchantment  of 
Be.njamin  (Mr.  Park)        ..... 

BiRD(Dr)       ....... 

Birth  of  RuBETA,  with  the  ceremonies  observed  thereat 
Birth-place,  the  hero's       ..... 

Bitches'  milk,  use  of  ..... 

Black  Cato  ...... 

Blasphemy,  in  men  of  acknowledged  piety 

BoiLEAU,  cause  of  his  aversion  to   gallantry   in  writing 

BoiLEAU,  Drvden,  and  Pope,  as  satirists 

BoiTEUSE  recounts  the  story  of  her  misfortune 

BouFFiE  and  Culasse  ;  their  murmurs 

"  Bower  on  College-green,"  the  .... 

Bowles  (Miss  Caroline)  's  Birthday 

Boy  at  marbles,  a  simile  ..... 

Braces,  the  hero's,  appropriated  by  Fretille 

Broomstick,  history  of  a  ..... 

Brownlee,  (Rev.  Dr.)  .... 

Bruno  and  Molcus  at  the  visionary  conflagration 

and  RuBETA  in  personal  collision 

's  picture  and  the  green  veil 

Bulwer  (Mr.  Edicard  Lytton)  's  rhymes 

,  his  obscurity,  of  a  celestial  sort.  Wis  Athens 

Duchess  de  la  Valliire 

BYRo>f  as  a  satirist.     His  Bards  and  Reviewers 

Camp-meetings      ...... 

Canonization  of  Rubeta  ..... 

Cant,  her  opening  address  to  the  starving  apprentice 

instructs  him  in  his  future  office 

Capers,  justified  by  the  example  of  Aristippus 

Caper,  marvellous,  cut  by  Rcbeta 

Carlyle  (Mr.  Thomas)  .... 

Catalogue  of  the  Black  Nuns  .... 

Cause  of  the  grandeur  of  the  poetry  in  the  Tales  and  Sketches 

Celestial  beings ;  their  facility  of  metamorphosis 

Certain  expressions,  how  to  be  to  be  translated 

Cevalim,  used  anciently  by  the  Jewish  women 

C.  F.  M.,  A  Poetical  Epistle  to  ... 

Chambers  of  the  vestals  ..... 

Channing  (Rev.  Dr.)        ..... 

Charmed  sleep  of  the  infant  RtBETA 


Page  Verie 

353,  935 

,80,  123 

225,  41 

58,  635 

39,  443 

231,  93 

346,  913 

346,  912 

224,  37 

220,  14 
238,  202 

22,  276 

101,  254 
80,  128 

307,  799 

102,  410 
173,  392 
178,  460 
283,  707 
119,  660 
163,  266 

37,  417 

297,  759 

57,  610 

195,  583 

29,  334 
10,  87 

128,  746 

360,  951 

307,  799 

270,  607 

87,  188 

258,  400 

265,  552 

163,  259 

162,  259 

368,  961 

30,  343 

221,  17 
234,  159 
215,  790 
275,  653 
341,  901 

92,  258 

297,  700 

231,  91 


INDEX. 


415 


Page   Verso 

Chastity,  Rubeta's  "nursing  cares  for"              .             .             .  289,  714 

Cheops'  pyramid,  Jiow  built                ....  79,  121 

Ciiickens  gatiierino-  round  a  iiousewife,  a  simile              .             .  55,  57(5 

Cmr.D  (Mrs.) 303,  791 

Christina,  the,  of  the  Talcs  and  Sketches ;  who  she  really  was,  240,  222 

assumes  the  charge  of  the  youthful  hero's  education  240,  222 

Civis,  assisted  to  expectorate  by  Petronius               .             .  330,  898 

Claims,  the  hero's,  to  the  aid  of  certain  goddesses            .             .  255,  422 

Clarke  (Mr.  Jl/acrfonaW),  wicked  conduct  of  Petronius  towards  304,  791 

Cleopatra,  a  midwife            .....  67,  49 

Clystera  crowns  the  hero  with  the  pewter  vase            .             .  1G9,  326 

appropriates  the  hero's  heaver       .             •             .  169,  335 

;  what  she  gave  the  hero  on  parting  with  him  179,  482 

"  Cock,"  a  word  disused  in  America      ....  J88,  544 

Columbia  College  in  New  York         ....  338,  900 

Confessions  of  a  Poet,  tendency  o^ihe                   .             .             .  80,  123 

Confusion,  the  sisters',  at  the  hero's  accident             .             .  105,  461 

Consolation,  the  nuns',  to  the  hero  in  his  calamity          :              .  117,  626 

Cook,  Rubeta  released  from  peril  by  Bruno's           .             .  196,  611 

Cook-maids  and  Blaclifish,  the  poet  of      .             .             .             .  330,  900 

Cooper  (Mr.  J.  Fennimore)  and  the  journalists         .             .  347,  918 

Coprones  and  Kitty,  love-passage  between        .             .             .214,  781 

Crabbe;  character  of  his  poems        ....  306,  799 

has  no  claims  to  be  entitled  the  English  Juvenal  307,  799 

;  his  Village             .....  307,  799 

Credulity  and  Suspicion  go  hand  in  hand             .              .             .  160,  246 

Criticism,  at  the  present  day,  diverted  from  its  proper  channel  187,  532 

Ctesias  ;  his  account  of  a  singular  race  in  India                   .  75,  102 

Cyr  (St.),  the  abbess  of,  her  heroic  self-mutilation           .            .  69,  61 


Delicate  situation,  a           .....  .         115,  579 

Demosthenes' adjuration,  and  that  of  Rubeta         .             .  82,  133 

Departure  of  the  steamer  with  the  destined  newsman     .  .        248,  314 

Description  of  a  child  at  the  breast     ....  97,  329 

of  a  range  of  dwellings  in  the  Five  Points  .        250,  354 

of  the  abbess's  ass             ....  57,  620 

of  the  cave  of  the  convent                  .             .  .         134,  17 

of  Cant  and  Hypocrisy  in  masquerade               .  257,  443 

Devil,  the,  gallops  over  the  prostrate  hero            .             .  .         138,  75 

Dinner-giving,  to  public  men,  an  ancient  and  classical  usage          190,  555 

Disappointment,  the  hero's,  on  his  return  to  Manhattan  190,  555 

Disaster  to  the  hero's  breeches            ....  174,  419 

,  how  remedied  by  the  abbess  .         175,  426 

Distress,  the  hero's,  in  a  garret,          ....  252,  370 

. — •  St.  Cholera's,  and  the  hero's  suspicions         .  .        133,  3 

Domicile,  Rubeta's  "  doorless"        ....  145,  170 

Downing  (Major)  's  little  cousin              ....        294,  736 


416 


INDEX. 


Pago  Verse 

Dream,  the  abbess's     ......  53,  545 

DuER  (Mr.  William)          ....:.  149,  174 

Dui.NESS,  in  despair  at  the  absence  of  lluBETA           .             .  11,  120 

her  solemn  oath             .                         .             •             .13,  137 

why  termed  "  goddess  of  the  wildcred  eye  "  .'        .  13,  147 

seeks  "  lier  darhng  sheets,"  where  '                   .             .  200,  648 

informs  Impudenck  of  her  son's  maturity               .  242,  238 

Dumpling,  the  ecclesiastical          .....  57,  611 

DuNSTAN  (St.)  's  victory  over  the  Devil         .             .             .  118,  650 

DwiGHT  (Mr.),  no  friend  to  the  old  lady  of  Babylon               .  54,  559 

Effects  of  the  hero's  tenderness  upon  his  drawers            .             .  188,  542 

Egyptians,  the,  in  the  time  of  Herodotus                .             .  95,  302 

Elegant  extract  from  the  first  of  American  historians      .             .  77,  118 

from  the  Letter  on  Animal  Magnetism         .  198,  628 

Element,  true,  of  the  author  of  the  Tales  and  Sketches                .  163,  260 

Ellet  (Mrs.  £.  f'.),poemby              ....  353,  934 

Entrance  of  the  disguised  deities  into  the  garret              .             .  256,  440 

"  Envy,  smarting  at  a  woman's  fire  "              .             .            .  292,  725 

Ethics,  modern,  (Rubeta's)          .             .             ,            .             .  292,  727 

Eugene  (Prince)  and  Rubeta,  in  parallel                  .             .  296,  745 

Eulogium  of  water,  Rubeta's       .....  207,  733 

Explanation  of  the  name  Rubeta       ....  264,  537 

Fairies,  in  modern  times                .             .             .             .             .  8,  66 

Father  Richards          ......  35,  398 

Fielding  and  Lady  Blessington,  at  the  tribunal  of  Petronius  309,  801 

Fine  arts,  Rubeta  on  the                           .                                      .  295,  741 

First  steps  of  the  infant  hero  towards  the  state  of  a  rational  being  237,  184 

Fish-stories,  as  old  as  Ctesias               ....  74,  98 

Flies,  on  a  chill  autumnal  morning;  a  comparison           .             .  204,  703 

Foetal  state,  the  hero  twenty-seven  months  in  a         .             .  224,  37 

Force  of  great  virtue,  eminent  instance  of  the                   .             .  262,  520 

Formosa,  story  of  the  women  of        .             .             .            .  80,  125 

Fountain  of  grief,  wonderful  discharge  from  the              .            .  188,  542 

Fretille  repairs  the  hero's  braces             ....  116,  594 

F.  IV.  S.,  "Elegy"  hy             .....  335,  900 

"  Gallantries  of  Paradise "              .....  208,  735 

Garters,  acquisition  of  the  vestal         ....  175,  426 

Generosity  of  the  hero,  on  parting  with  the  sisters          .             .  181,  505 

to  the  giant  Doolan              .             .  135,  41 

Genius,  great,  "  never  stoops  to  the  embellishment  of  trifles"  186,  532 

Giant  of  the  portal,  the            .....  127,  755 

GiFFORD,  as  a  satirist        ......  307,  799 

"  Grand  Absurd,  "  the,  arrives  at  maturity                  .             .  242,  235 

Grandeur,  solemn,  of  the  triumphal  procession                .             •  173,  384 


INDEX. 


417 


Gregory  of  Nyssa's  argument  on  incorporeal  propagation 
Griffard,  the,  over  his  prey         .... 

Habitation  in  the  i^zjc  Poinds,  nature  of  a 

Hale  (Mr.  David)  's  darling  ... 

Hancock  ("  Madam  ")  and  "  her  husband's  gout  " 

Hawks  (Rev.  Dr.)        ..... 

Heinecken  .         . 

Hell;  the  hero  visits  it,  entranced  .  . 

Heraldic  knowledge  of  RuBETA 

Herbert  (Mr.  H.  JV.)  .  .  .  .  . 

Herdsman's  child,  story  of  the       .... 

Hero,  the,  betrayed  into  an  oath, 

devotes  himself  to  the  service  of  his  visitors 

Historical  romance,  writers  of       . 
Hoffman  (Mr.  Charles  F.)     . 


Holland  (Lord)  ..... 

How  to  make  the  most  of  a  calamity 

Hubbub  in  the  convention      .... 

Hughes  (Mr.  Ball)  's  statue  of  Alexander  Hamilton 

Humanity,  singular  instance  of  the  hero's 

Hunt  (Mr.  Leigh)  's  Captain  Sword  and  Captain  Pen 

Hyfena,  the,  notion  with  regard  to,  in  the  time  of  Pliny 

Hypatia,  who  abandoned  Cupid  for  Minerva 

Immortality  and  saintship  promised  to  the  hero 
Impudence;  two  deities  of  the  name 

takes  tiie  infant  hero  to  Mount  Ida 

-^ lier  darling  votary 


beside  the  pallet  of  her  step-niece 

substitutes  the  infant  god  for  the  herdsman's  child 

appears  to  the  divine  changeling 

her  collrquy  with  the  young  hero 

takes  her  flight  from  the  steamer 


whereabouts  she  nestled  in  Philadelphia 

Inconvenience  of  breeches,  and  superiority  of  philabegs 
Infantile  graces  of  the  hero  .... 

Inklings  of  Jldventure,hj  Mr.  Wix-Lis 

Instance  of  desperate  resolution  .... 

Institution  of  female  monasticism,  whence  derived 
Interchange  of  civilities,  between  the  hero  and  the  green  Father 
Interruption  which  the  hero  met,  in  his  descent  to  the  cavern 
Inventor  of  Animal  Magnetism,  the  true 
Inventory  of  the  hero's  wardrobe        .... 

Invocation  of  Hypocrisy  and  Cant,  the  hero's 

Ion,  tragedy  of,  .....  . 

Iris  claps  her  rainbow  on  the  hero's  eye 
53 


Page 

Verso 

71, 

80 

119, 

674 

251, 

358 

52, 

528 

279, 

685 

297, 

7(i0 

237, 

191 

154, 

230 

259, 

479 

34  G, 

912 

231, 

97 

141, 

112 

271, 

612 

346, 

912 

147, 

174 

345, 

912 

311, 

811 

116, 

610 

200, 

653 

295, 

734 

120, 

690 

284, 

708 

72, 

83 

209, 

739 

88, 

205 

225, 

48 

226, 

58 

229, 

81 

232, 

115 

233, 

141 

243, 

253 

244, 

264 

250, 

346 

250, 

353 

107, 

488 

38, 

429 

195, 

599 

101, 

396 

123, 

725 

182, 

514 

153, 

205 

231, 

93 

247, 

304 

254, 

411 

364, 

953 

118, 

638 

418 


INDEX. 


Irving  (Mr.    Washington)  's  "  worn-out  hose  " 

's  distinfruisJiing  excellences 

absurd  adulation  of  reviewers  towards 

's  proper  rank  as  a  writer 

and  Goldsmith 

• "  Beauties  "of 

Issue  of  the  adventure  of  the  jars,  with  the  philosophy  of  the  hero 

Jerom  (St.)  's  skull  ..... 

Journal,  a  certain,  anatomized  .... 

Journal  des  Dibats,  critique  of  the,  on  Mr.  Bulwer's  Duchess 
Joy  and  surprise,  the  hero's,  over  the  newspaper 
Juvenal,  no  real  parallel  for,  in  English  or  in  French 

Kemble  (Miss  Frances)  and  Petronius 
Kingfish,  greediness  of  the  .... 

Kiss,  Margaret's  last,  in  Confessions  of  a  Poet 
Knickerbocker  Magazine,  the  .... 

Lecture,  Rcbeta's  curious,  at  the  Stuyvcsant  Institute 
Liberality,  Rubeta's         ..... 
Liver,  the,  anciently  reputed  the  seat  of  love 
Locke  (Mr.  R.  Mams)     .  •  .  .  . 

— — his  ingenius  fiction  of  the  Rloon 


—  his  justice  to  Mr.  Willis 


"  Love  of  ladies  and  satiric  pique,"  Rubeta's,  whence  derived 
Loves  of  the  vipers  and  congers,  from  Achilles  Tatius 
SciPio  and  Christina         .... 

Mackenzie  (Henry),  and  his  novels 

Magazines,  Pope  on  ..... 

Magazine,  American  Monthly        .... 

Magnetizers ;  useful  purposes  to  which  to  put  them 
Mares,  the,  of  Portugaii,  fable  of 

Margaret,  Countess  of  Holland  ;  her  miraculous  childbed 
Margites  ...... 

Martyr,  what  makes  the 
Mask,  for  obliquity  of  vision,  a     . 
Master-stroke  in  the  Mysterious  Bridal 
Matthias  darkens  the  fame  of  Herodotus 

,  how  sold  ?    . 

Matthias  in  Hell,  a  barbecue 

Memnon's  statue  .... 

Men  and  tadpoles  .... 

Merchant-princes,  "paper-crowned" 

Metamorphosis  of  the  turnips 

Mind,  a  substitute  for  body- linen 

Mirk  {M'd'lle)  and  the  heir  of  the  D.  de  PcnthiilvTe 


Pago 

Verse 

184, 

533 

185, 

533 

ds   186, 

533 

187, 

533 

348, 

918 

379, 

980 

0    122, 

702 

295, 

741 

286, 

712 

301, 

951 

249, 

328 

307, 

799 

347, 

917 

331, 

900 

196, 

601 

373, 

970 

2G6, 

567 

292, 

730 

114, 

573 

299, 

768 

37, 

420 

360, 

944 

239, 

215 

230, 

90 

232, 

124 

307, 

799 

345, 

908 

344, 

908 

236, 

181 

72, 

87 

68, 

59 

386, 

1014 

109, 

515 

238, 

196 

143, 

136 

29, 

328 

281, 

693 

155, 

236 

312, 

821 

73, 

93 

41, 

447 

.    141, 

114 

111, 

527 

386, 

1010 

INDEX. 


419 


Mirror,  the  JVe?o  York      ..... 
Mischievous  trick  of  a  novice,  with  its  awful  consequence 
Mitchell  (Mr.  T.)  's  translation  of  ^miop/iarecj 
Modern  lagos  ..... 

Modesty  of  Rubeta,  compared  with  that  of  Ulysses 
Mohammed's  breeches  .... 

Monk  (Maria),  her  book  .... 

not  written  by  herself 

and  Rubeta,  rival  authors 

disappears         ..... 


Monkbarns  of  bibliography,  the 

Moonlight  scene  on  a  lake 

MooRE  {^'.^nacrcon''),  the  American 

Moore  (JMr.  Clement  C.) 

Moral  worth,  the,  of  famous  persons,  disparaged  by  little  minds 

Musings  —  by  Flaccus  in  Toicn  .... 

Mylitta,  the  Assyrian  Venus  .... 

Naked  licentiousness  of  Manhattan       .... 
Nakedness  of  man,  the  primitive,  envied  by  Rubeta 
Nastiness,  Rcbeta's  secret  joy     ..... 
Nazarites  and  Nazarenes  ..... 

Newsmen,  a  distinctive  quality  of  ...  . 

the,  prepare  for  the  celebration  of  their  mystic  rites 

Night-scene,  in  and  out  of  a  French  stage-coach 

in  the  herdsman's  cottage 

Noah  (Mr.  M.  M.)  .....  . 

Noise  made  by  the  abbess's  ass ;  its  effect  upon  the  fcetuses 
JVowlans,  the,  by  Mr.  Banim  ... 

Nuns,  the,  let  down  their  tails  ..... 

;  what  they  gave  the  hero  at  parting  with  him 

Nursery,  secrets  of  the  ...... 

Object  of  the  Tales  and  Sketches 
Obsequies  of  an  old  straw  mattress     . 
O'CoNNELL  (Mr.  Daniel) 
Occupation  of  the  sisterhood 
Omen  of  the  Green  Father 
Omnipotence,  human. 
Order  of  the  triumphal  procession 
Ornaments  of  Manhattan 
Osborn  (Mr.  Laughton) 
Otranto,  Castle  of       . 
Out  of  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire 
Owen  (Mr.  Robert)  's  nose 

Parentage,  true,  of  the  hero  of  the  Vision  .  .  .         223,      23 

Parody  of  the  style  of  Mrs.  Hemans  ;  fiom  the  Life  of  Jeremy  Levis    126,     746 


Page  Verso 

5,  32 

104,  445 
271,  G12 
159,  246 

105,  459 
26,  309 
43,  458 
56,  593 

49,  505 
59,  644 

257,  455 

203,  691 

343,  904 

147,  174 

206,  729 
338,  902 

77,  117 

42,  448 

108,  493 

50,  515 

207,  732 
199,  640 
214,  789 
201,  665 
232,  113 
298,  765 

58,  627 

290,  719 

33,  378 

180,  492 

238,  194 

278,  681 

56,  597 

302,  791 

30,  340 

84,  141 

146,  170 

169,  338 

39,  445 

318,  844 

90,  216 

114,  560 

253,  381 


420 


INPEX. 


Partiality,  Bvron  on  ...... 

Pat's  emergence,  on  the  opening  of  the  scuttle 

eye,  compared  to  a  star  seen  through  a  comet 

Patent  of  a  grant  of  arms,  Royal  Achitvcment 

Patronage,  literary  ...... 

Peanut,  the  last  ...... 

Peril,  bodily,  the  hero's,  among  the  Brunonians  ? 

-r — : ,  from  llie  Cyclops;  averted  by  Boitzuse 

Petronius, —  his  amiable  vacillancy    .... 

,  figured  as  a  peacock  .  •  .  . 

,  "  big-mouthed  "  ;   why  ?      .  .  , 

,  his  pride  in  the  Convention     .  .  .  . 

prodigious  speech  .... 

,  "  the  amphibolous  colonel "  .  .  , 

■ ,  why  "classic".''     ..... 

— "  proves  a  coxcomb  through  his  father's  worth  " 

,  ''  critic  hebdomadal  "  .  .  .  . 


"  directs  our  operas "  .  .  .  . 

. ,  director  of  magazines,  and  literary  counsellor  to  misses 

,  "  in  love,  and  hatred,  violent  yet  weak  " 

,  satirized  fof  his  "  boyish  heart  and  girlish  skull  " 


— ,  tlie  Maecenas  of  Manhattan 

—  sticks^at  nothing  "  where  his  friends  have  part  " 
— ,  his  foster-child  .... 
— ,  maliciousness           .... 

—  and  Dk  Witt  Clinton 
General  Jackson 

— ,  his  candor  .  .  .  .  • 

— ,  Jove's  bastard  .... 

— ,  his  elegant  taste  for  tragedies 

— ,  his  reverence  of  British  opinion 

— ,  his  regard  for  popular  reputation  in  letters 

— ,  his  grandiloquence,  specimen  of    . 

— ,  his  wit  ..... 


,  his  venality  .... 

,  his  apology  for  being  nasty 

, ,  "  a  new  Palsemon,  risen  in  the  West  " 

. ,  "  grammatical  "... 

and  Queen  Victoria 

— fosters  sectional  prejudices 

,  his  fate  "  by  singing-girls  " 

Pheron,  his  marvellous  eyewater 

burns  all  the  faithless  women  in  his  kingdom 

Philosophical  situation,  a  ... 

Philostratus'  fanciful  account  of  the  Memnon 
Philpot,  Toby  .... 

Pig's  brains,  use  of        ....  . 


Pag«  Versa 

343,  906 

144,  156 

144,  104 

Vj2,  506 

311,  811 

183,  520 

I'JO,  607 

129,  775 

14,  158 

15,  161 
2)0,  751 
210,  753 
210,  757 
213,  773 

300,  773 

301,  780 
30,1,  781 

302,  785 
304,  795 
329,  888 
329,  891 
329,  897 
343,  906 
343,  908 
347,  917 

350,  918 

351,  918 

351,  924 

352,  931 
352,  934 

359,  943 

360,  950 

370,  963 

371,  963 
371,  966 
377,  977 
381,  985 

383,  994 

384,  995 

385,  996 

386,  1009 

76,  115 

77,  115 
106,  477 
312,  821 

5,  31 

238,  20? 


INDEX. 


421 


Pindar  and  Rubeta      ..... 

Pit,  the  hero  descends  into  the,  with  the  loss  of  his  tail 
Poetic  name,  the  hero's,  foretold  him 
Pottry,  the  j\eio  York  Book  of  ... 

Poets-laureate  ...... 

Pope,  as  compared  with  the  poets  of  antiquity 

Prayer  to  Venus,  the  hero's  .  .  .  , 

Precocity  of  genius,  the  strongest  instance  of,  on  record. 

Preparations  for  the  triumph,  the 

Prescott  (Mr.  IVm.  H.)  .... 

Price  (Mr.  Joseph)  .  .  .  .  . 

Priscillian's  doctrine  with  regard  to  oaths    . 

Prison  in  Manhattan,  the  n.  w      . 

Profanity  in  some  men  piety  in  others 

Propagation  of  the  hero,  extraordinary  time  and  labor  in 

Prophecy,  the  mother-nun's  to  the  hero     . 

I  YPOCRisv's,  to  the  distressed  apprentice  . 

Puberty,  the  hero's  late        .  .  .  .  , 

Puppies,  a  litter  of         ....  . 

Purgatory,  the  nuns'  .  .  .  •  . 

Putain's  excessive  modesty       .  .  .  • 

delicacy  in  releasing  the  hero  from  his  peculiar 

pins  up  the  hero's  breeches 

Pyrrhus's  orreat  toe  .  .  .  .  . 


Quixote,  Don,  surpassed     ..... 

Rachel's  "  twin  garters  and  her  tinkling  chain" 

Reese  (Dr.  David  M.)  piddles  any  way, 

Relic  of  the  Lady  Margaret  Bellenden 

Romans  unbreeched       ..... 

Room  of  the  spinners  ..... 

Review,  JV.  American      ..... 

,  Jlmerican  Quarterly  .... 

,  J\'ew  York  ..... 

Rooster,  etymology  of  the  word  and  confined  application 
Rout  of  the  ten  thousand  .... 

Rozinante  and  Rubeta,  in  poetical  juxtaposition 
Rubeta,  "  High-Priest  of  Hypocrites  and  King  of  Fools  " 

'  ,  flogg'd  by  Fate,  clears  the  five-barr'd  gate  of  Prudence 

,  distinguished  for  chastity 

arrives  at  the  Hall      .... 

,  his  solemn  entrance, 

is  exalted,  at  the  expense  of  his  breeches 

,  compared  to  a  fire-engine 

,  his  philanthropy 

ingenious  scheme  to  do  away  with  slavery 


Pago 

Versa 

107 

481 

151 

186 

2G3 

530 

14fi 

174 

311, 

813 

307, 

799 

111 

531 

237, 

191 

. 

168, 

304 

3.59 

943 

, 

299 

767 

2G9 

585 

250 

355 

113 

553 

the 

224 

35 

8G, 

165 

. 

262 

528 

. 

242 

235 

10 

96 

, 

100 

376 

66 

39 

situation 

113 

550 

165 

,  279 

312 

819 

161 


.  275, 

653 

50, 

514 

.   79 

118 

107 

492 

.   99 

366 

348, 

918 

.   229 

82 

365, 

953 

188, 

544 

139, 

82 

.   209, 

743 

3, 

6 

;nce     4, 

11 

9, 

80 

17, 

191 

•    17, 

203 

18, 

214 

19, 

237 

.   22 

269 

22, 

273 

255 


42ii 


INDEX. 


RuBETA,  his  classical  knowledge 

equity,  and  delicacy  of  moral  distinction 

,  compared  to  Cokiolanus 

,  his  bewitching  piety  .... 

gives  Black  Cato  an  opportunity  of  evincing  his  gratitude  25, 


piefers  death  to  obscurity       .... 

desires  to  be  made  a  nun 

,  the  most  learned  of  Ameuicans 

,  mistaken  for  a  saint 

,  compares  himself  to  Israel  in  the  Red  Sea 

,  his  hereditary  broomstick 

mouth        ...... 

gods  ..... 

,  compared  to  Cyrus    ..... 

,  his  modesty  on  a  certain  occasion,  how  to  be  rewarded 

,  and  the  beetle  ..... 

and  Archimedes  .... 


,  his  savory  discourse  to  the  nuns 

,  skill  in  obstetrics  .... 

compares  himself  to  an  ape,  and  his  tongue  to  a  barrel-organ  C6, 

,  his  only  vice  save  one 

,  his  code  where  women  are  concerned 

,   Captain  of  the  Veils         .... 

rummages  the  chambers  of  the  nuns 

plays  the  part  of  Hercules 

,  his  eyes  ...  ... 


,  paralleled  with  Hector  .... 

ascends  the  wall         ..... 

compares  himself  to  Troy  dismantled 

,  in  an  uncomfortable  predicament,  begins  to  moralize 

differs  from  Homer  in  an  important  matter 

compares   himself  to  a  lover  watching  his  lady's  lattice, 

hangs  up  "the  blessed  rod  "  as  a  monument 

compares  himself  to  the  animal  that"  lives  in  sties  " 


compared  to  a  fire-engine  that  has  "  ceased  to  spirt ' 

,  suckled  like  Jupiter  .... 

,  his  love  of  horrors  taught  him 

,  and  the  S^repsJatZcs  of  Aristophanes 

commences  his  office 

and  Thomas  Downing,  fellow-classics 

;  "  no  subject  known  his  page  but  suits  " 


Sage,  the  philosophic,  incapable  of  feeling  cold  or  heat 
Salutation,  the  abbess's,  to  the  triumphant  hero     . 
Satan's  color  and  peculiarities 
Scipio  aids  in  the  education  of  the  youthful  hero   . 
Sepulchre  of  David,  the  .... 


Page 

Verso 

23, 

283 

23, 

267 

24, 

295 

24, 

297 

le  25, 

305 

29, 

335 

29, 

336 

31, 

360 

32, 

365 

33, 

375 

37, 

417 

45, 

481 

4G, 

490 

46, 

490 

47, 

501 

49, 

511 

,52, 

521 

65, 

29 

65, 

34 

,n66. 

35 

70, 

76 

81, 

129 

90, 

219 

94, 

282 

96, 

310 

100, 

385 

101, 

405 

103, 

438 

104, 

457 

106, 

480 

112, 

533 

142, 

136 

190, 

563 

197, 

623 

198, 

633 

227, 

61 

227, 

63 

271, 

612 

276, 

665 

282, 

693 

293, 

731 

110, 

517 

174, 

412 

155, 

231 

241, 

226 

148, 

174 

IJNDEX. 


423 


Sethos,  king  of  Egypt,  and  priest  of  Vulcan,  story  of 

Sexual  vices  of  convents,  what  ?      . 

Seymour,  (Mr.  Daniel)  ..... 

Ships,  on  the  breaking  up  of  the  ice,  —  a  comparison 

Sietta's  houries,  —  their  complexion,  eulogized  b}'  the  hero 

Silver  age,  the  men  of  the  .  .  .  • 

Simplicity  of  a  novice,  the         ..... 

Singular  effects  of  poetic  rapture        .... 

Sir  Walter  Scott's  opinion  of  the  poetry  of  Mrs.  IIemans 

Six  virgins  shoulder  the  mystic  cane 

Sixteen-fingered  race,  the 

Slanders,  shameless,  of  a  certain  print 

Smutty  stories,  the  hero's  early  passion  for 

Solemn  procession  of  nuns 

Soliloquy  in  a  garret,  the  hero's       .  . 

Somiet,  by  Park  Benjamin 

Song  of  triumph,  the  nuns' 

,  the  hero's 

Sordidness  of  the  giant  Doolan 

Specimen  of  exquisite  wit  and  humor,  from  the  Tales  and  Sketches 

Spirit,  the  hero's  early  display  of  ...  . 

Sportsman  (village)  ..... 

Story,  Rubeta's,  which  he  tells  to  his  strange  visitors 

Sublimity,  astounding  instance  of,  in  the  diary  of  Petronius, 

Submission,  graceful,  of  the  hero  to  the  fancies  of  the  sisterhood 

Sugar  plums  and  goat's  milk  set  before  the  hero  at  the  refection 

Superb  passage  from  the  Mysterious  Bridal 

Superstitions,  ancient,  observed  in  the  lustration  of  an  infant 

Superstitions  live  by  traditionary  habit 

Sybil,  the  North  American  .... 

Systems  of  philosophy,  tendency  of,  to  get  beyond  common  sense 

Talfocrd  (Mr.  Thomas  J^^oon)' s  "florid  bombast"    . 

—   fustian  in  prose 

Tappan  (Mr.  Artkurys  notions  of  the  Manhattanese  ladies 

,  a  practical  amalgamator 

Tasso's  poetical  fancy,  to  what  ascribed  by  himself 

Taste,  elegant,  a  specimen  of         . 

Tearsheet  {Doll)  on  the  title  Colonel 

Temperance,  the  hero's       ..... 

Terror,  the  hero's,  in  the  vault,  justified 

Thorax,  and  the  punishment  of  Daphitas 

Ti  Ka\bv,  new  interpretation  of  ... 

Transformation,  the  ..... 

T?'iac/e!<r  (.Von5.),  the  "  poetical  midwife  " 

Trollope  (Mrs.),  on  republican  vulgarity 

True  child  of  the  herdsman,  wliat  the  goddess  did  with  it 


Pago 

Verse 

172, 

375 

.   44, 

458 

149, 

174 

90 

220 

IGG 

289 

.  22G, 

60 

106, 

475 

.   28 

318 

127, 

746 

89 

215 

.   75 

99 

158, 

246 

.   241 

231 

33 

377 

.   253 

386 

346 

913 

.   170 

352 

171 

372 

.   136 

47 

es    182 

,  511 

241 

233 

.   123 

710 

259 

476 

211 

765 

d   164 

273 

64, 

17 

221 

17 

.   221 

,   41 

225 

41 

.   222 

17 

se  110 

517 

364 

,  953 

.   365 

953 

42 

448 

.   43 

450 

206 

729 

.   310 

808 

263, 

529 

.   205 

717 

128 

765 

.   310, 

806 

70 

69 

.   269 

593 

336 

900 

.   248 

326 

235 

167 

424 


INDEX, 


Trutli,  though  to  be  told,  not  to  be  volunteered,  at  all  times 
piiilosophically  set  at  naught  by  Rubeta 

Ulysses,  the  modern       ..... 
Unrequited  love,  —  a  comparison 

Valla  {Laurentiusy s  profane  declaration         .  4 

Vallombrosa,  the  MSS.  of  ...  . 

Venus,  influence  of  the  planet 
Voyage  to  Manhattan,  the  hero's  first,  —  what  happened  thereon 

Waldie  (^dam)'s  hireling 

Journal  of  Belles  Leltrcs    . 

Wand,  the  hero's  mystic,  extraordinary  properties  of 
Ware  (Dr.  John)  ..... 

Warning,  curious,  which  Cant  gave  the  apprentice 
Warren  (Dr.  John  C.)  .... 

Washington,  in  a  quadrille 
Wafers  John,  —  "  Hys  Springe  "... 

,  his  "  glorious '' muse  .   -         , 

Weasel's  (Mother)  "den  of  privy  prayer" 
Webb  (Mr.  /.  Watson)         .... 
Webster  (Mr.  Daniel)  .... 

Weeds,  floating  on  tropical  seas,  a  simile 
Weir  (Mr.  Robert  JV.),  Thoughts  inscribed  to 
Wig,  Bruno's  ..... 

Willis  (Mr.  JV.  P.) 

,  his  Bianca  Visconti, 

Wine-drinkers,  who  should  be,  and  who  should  not    . 
Wit,  the  hero's         ..... 
Woodcocks  and  martyrs  .... 
Wordsworth  (Mr.  William)'s  self-parallel  with  Milton 
lawful  place  as  a  poet 


—  Preface  to  the  Lyrical  Ballads 

—  notions  of  poetry 

—  Poetry  and  Misrepresentations 


Page 

Verse 

80, 

123 

lOd, 

504 

259, 

476 

.   142, 

136 

161, 

254 

78, 

118 

205, 

725 

lereon  248, 

320 

.   229, 

62 

229, 

82 

.    94, 

300 

298, 

764 

.   274, 

638 

298, 

764 

.   278, 

683 

285, 

711 

.   334, 

900 

276, 

662 

.   298, 

766 

302, 

791 

.   98, 

346 

336, 

900 

68, 

58 

196, 

599 

355, 

936 

206, 

729 

.   288, 

713 

109, 

514 

186, 

532 

187, 

532 

186, 

532 

284, 

709 

Appendix. 


1/777'         A 


76- 
/- 


Langton  Osborn. 

960  (Osborn,  Langton.)  The  Vision  of  Rubeta.  An  Epic 
Story  of  the  Island  of  Manhattan.  With  illustrations  done 
on  sto7ie. 

8vo,  half  morocco,  top  edge  gilt.  Boston,  ls38 

First  edition.    Very  scarce. 


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■^-- 


